


A Dream of a King

by Nevelyna



Series: The Narnian Rose [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevelyna/pseuds/Nevelyna
Summary: When Aria Heart falls down into a snow-covered forest, she immediately believes that she's in a dream... but how can that be when everything feels so incredibly real?





	1. A Very Real Dream

Chapter One: A Very Real Dream

Aria Elena Hart awoke that fateful morning as she did every other day. 

Her alarm rang at six o’clock on the dot, and she slapped the snooze button. It rang again at six o-five, and she slapped at it again. At six-ten she opened one eye and glared at it before flipping the switch to turn it off completely and snuggling down to sleep more. At six-thirty, however, there was a knock at her door. 

“Aria, are you awake yet?” Called a sleepy voice. When Aria did not respond, the door opened slightly, letting a schism of light shine into the dark room. “Come on, sleepyhead.” The voice said. “You’re about to miss the bus.” 

Aria groaned and sat up slowly, keeping her blanket wrapped around her. “It’s too cold.” She said, her tired mouth barely forming the words. 

“Well, that’s what you get for going to bed with wet hair.” Her mother said. “If you’ll get up and get moving then you’ll warm up some.” Then she left, leaving the door cracked as her daughter yawned and stretched as much as she could while keeping her limbs covered. She then sighed as she reached for the lamp on her nightstand, wincing slightly as her fingers left the warmth of the blanket, then wincing again as the light blinded her for a moment. 

She yawned again before opening her eyes. They landed on the clothes that she had set out last night and she watched them carefully, judging how fast she could get into them after shedding her blanket. She then took a deep breath and threw off the blanket, taking her pajamas off hurriedly and grabbing the new clothes. She pulled them on and then slipped on her shoes before stepping into the bathroom, rubbing her arms to get some friction going. 

She washed her face and brushed her teeth quickly, and then it was time for makeup. A little coral-colored lipstick, eyeliner so that it would look as if she actually had eyelids, and a tiny bit of light pink blush, and then she was done. She pulled her hair out of its bun and shook it out, flipping it over and then back so that it would part to one side instead of just in the middle. It was still a little wet in the middle, but that only made it look like it was curly so she didn’t bother with a blow-dryer. She sighed, thinking that this was as good as it was going to get, and then left her room, shouldering her messenger bag as she went. 

Downstairs, she grabbed the piece of toast that her mother handed to her and kissed her cheek before grabbing her coat and leaving the house. Once outside, she cursed under breath, as she shrugged into her coat, holding the warm bread between her teeth. 

It should be a crime to have the temperature below zero and have no snow to show for it, but that was the South, she supposed. She munched on her toast as she walked towards the bus stop. The other high school kids that lived around her were already there, all yawning and shivering. 

“You were almost late, again.” Said one of them, a boy named Justin something-or-other. “We heard the bus stop once already.” 

Aria shrugged. “Just means she has two more to go before she gets to us.” Finishing her toast, she zipped her coat up to her chin, wishing that it was still Christmas break so that she could sleep through the cold extra-early-morning hours. Really, it was a crime that the high schools started at seven-fifteen in the mornings. 

It was scientifically proven, years ago she might ad, that teenager’s brains weren’t ready to learn anything until the afternoon. It was no wonder they had so many drop-outs and failing students. She sighed, thinking glumly that she had three and a half more years of this. 

She had been so excited about going to high school last year. Of course, no one had told her that it was going to be the same as middle school, just a heck of a lot earlier. Same people, same cliques, same everything. If you were a loner in elementary school, you were a loner in middle school, and then you were expected to still be a loner in high school. 

She sighed again, and then laughed silently, shaking her head. Only a Freshman, and she already wanted high school to be over and done with. Then she heard the bus, now two stops away, thinking that she could have had another ten minutes of good sleep.

\-- -- -- -- --

“Peter winds up, goes for the bowl, and it’s another wicket!” The red cricket ball smacked into Edmund Pevensie’s thigh as he looked off towards the mansion. 

“Ow!” He cried, rubbing the offending appendage as his eldest sister, Susan, retrieved the ball. 

Peter Pevensie, the eldest of the four siblings, laughed as he said, “Wake up, Dolly Daydream!” And caught the ball as Susan threw it back to him. 

The Pevensie children, refugees of the London bombings, were trying, not very well, to get the youngest, Lucy’s, mind off her ‘wardrobe forest’. At present, the little girl was several yards away from her siblings, reading a book and trying to pretend that the other three weren’t there. 

Edmund sighed. “Can’t we play hide and seek again?” “I thought you said that it was a kid’s game.” Peter accused slightly, walking back to his pitching position and not even glancing at his younger brother. Edmund just glared at him. 

“Besides,” Susan started, trying to diffuse the brewing argument. “We can all use the fresh air.” 

But Edmund simply scoffed at her. “It’s not like there isn’t air inside.” Susan simply looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, and then dismissing him. 

Peter picked at the thread on the ball. “Are you ready?” He asked, already having had enough of Edmund’s attitude for one day. 

“Are you?” Edmund retorted, banging the cricket bat on the ground. Peter, his eyes narrowing, wound up and pitched the big red ball, hard. Then watched as Edmund whacked it, sending it sailing through the air and strait through a stained-glass window. Then he heard a large crash and winced slightly before glaring at his brother.

The four children then hurried into the house and up to the room where the damage had been done. They stared down at the collapsed suit of armor, then at the hole in the window. 

Peter rounded on his brother. “Well done, Ed.” He said.

Ed stepped back. “You bowled it!” He accused.

Then the children all froze as the heard Mrs. Macready yelling. “The Macready!” Susan cried and the four were forced into action. None of them wanted to get caught by the housekeeper at the scene of the crime. 

“Come on!” Peter cried, and the siblings ran from the room. But everywhere they ran, it always sounded as if the Macready’s footsteps were just around a corner, or just behind a door, finally, they came to the last hallway, and Peter tried one door, then another, but they were both locked. Then Edmund found the only open one and the four ran inside, Peter closing it behind them as Edmund ran towards the large, ornate wardrobe at the back of the room.

“You have got to be joking.” Susan said, as Lucy started for it, too. Edmund threw open the door and he and Lucy climbed inside, then Susan went in, and finally Peter, who drew the door slightly closed, peering out to make sure that the Macready didn’t come in, but he heard the footsteps stopping right outside the door, and so he whispered harshly for the others to get back.

There was immediate confusion as the wardrobe door closed, leaving the siblings in semi darkness, and somehow, Peter and Susan ended up at the back of the wardrobe, where they both tripped and fell into the snow. Wait. Snow?

The two eldest siblings turned around and saw, to their ultimate disbelief, that they were, indeed, in a forest in the middle of winter. They got up and Susan said the one thing that came to both of their minds. “Impossible.”

\-- -- -- -- --

Aria stepped off the bus once it came to a stop, yawning tiredly, and tried to get out of the way quickly as the students behind her began to do the same. But she was not so lucky this morning and the larger sophomore girl who had been in the seat behind her collided with her, and then shoved at her shoulder, sending the younger girl completely off-balance. 

Aria tried to regain her footing, but her old shoes, whose tread was worn down severely, could find no grip on the edge of the curb, and she fell, first striking her knee, and then her palm as she flung a hand out to stop her fall. But her hand did not meet unforgiving concrete, as she had expected, but cold, wet snow. 

She looked up immediately, still expecting to see the school in front of her, or, at the very least, the school bus and the sophomore girl, but all she saw around her were leafless, snow-covered tress. What in the world…

She stood up shakily, her knee smarting. She looked down and saw a tear in her new jeans where she had hit the curb. She looked around herself again, wondering what had happened. “I hit my head.” She said to no one. Then she nodded. “Yes, that must be it. I hit my head, and not I’m dreaming.” But she did not pinch herself to make sure. Her skinned knee was already stinging, and so a part of her knew that she couldn’t be dreaming, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to make it real.


	2. An Impossible Encounter

Chapter Two: An Impossible Encounter

Aria sat back down in the snow, not caring that her bottom was getting cold and wet. She would just wait right here until she woke up. It really was a beautiful place now that she really looked at it. A forest covered in the purest, whitest snow that she had ever seen. She then laughed quietly. Of course, now this had to be a dream. There was never snow like this in Georgia, ever. Not even when they had an ice storm a few years ago, well, many years ago now. It had all been ice, and she had never gotten to go outside anyway.

If it ever did snow in Georgia, it was only really snow for a couple of hours, and by then people had already walked through it, had snowball fights, and possibly taken some inside to make snow cream. Snowy days were never as perfect as this place right here. And why, just this morning, she had wished for snow, and now here it was, so she must be dreaming.

Then, suddenly she heard laughter coming from somewhere to her left. She looked towards it, then away, and then back. She couldn’t see anything because the trees were far too thick. She bit her lip, and then stood again, wiping snow from her backside. She wandered towards the voices, which had stopped laughing now. 

After a moment or two, she stepped out of the trees and into a clearing, which held, of all things, a lamppost. One of the old kinds in which a candle burned instead of a light bulb. “Now, I know I’m dreaming.” She muttered. “Whoever heard of a lamppost in the middle of a forest.”

She looked around again and her eyes fell on a group of children. Two girls and two boys, all different ages, they all looked as if they had just been in a snowball fight, which explained the laughter. The eldest of the four, a rather good-looking boy who looked to be about Aria’s age, was talking to the littlest girl. Aria couldn’t quite make out what he was saying but smiled slightly when she saw the little girl’s face light up.

Then the boy trudged out of sight somewhere and then came back with fur coats in his arms. Aria decided to move a bit closer to them and, as she did, she heard the eldest girl saying, “Peter, they don’t belong to us.”

Then the eldest boy, Peter she guessed, said, “Well, I don’t think the professor will mind. And if you think about it,” He paused slightly, “logically we’re not even taking them out of the wardrobe.” He then began to hand a coat to the other boy.

“But that’s a girl’s coat!” The boy cried, backing away from it slightly.

Peter shoved it at him, an angry look passing over his face. “I know.” He said. And the younger boy took it grudgingly and shrugged into it. 

Aria was far too interested in watching this exchange, that she didn’t notice that the youngest girl had noticed her. “Hello there.” She said, a smile breaking out on her face. “Who are you?” The other three turned to look at who the youngest was talking to, and then they all ended staring at Aria, who smiled uncomfortably.

“I’m Aria?” She said, looking from one face to the next, still thoroughly confused.

“Oh, did you come out of a wardrobe, too?” Said the little girl. 

Aria looked at her, then shook her head. “No.” She said. “I was just getting off the bus and I fell. I think I hit my head, though. She then looked at the four, really looked. They were all wearing old-fashioned clothes, like the ones that she saw in pictures at her grandmother’s house. From the forties, she thought. The one called Peter was even wearing suspenders. “Ya’ll came out of a wardrobe?”

The little girl nodded happily. “I’ve actually been here before, twice. But they didn’t believe me.” She said, gesturing towards the two eldest. “I’m Lucy, by the way. And these are my brothers and my sister. That’s Peter, and Edmund, and Susan.” She pointed to the eldest boy, the younger boy, and the other girl respectively.

The eldest girl held out a hand. “Susan Pevensie.” She said. “We’re from Finchley, England.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I think.” Aria said. Then she laughed slightly, shaking Susan’s hand with one of hers and rubbing her neck with the other. “Man, this dream just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

The youngest girl, Lucy, smiled at her. “Oh, don’t worry.” She said. “You’re not dreaming.”

Aria’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, please don’t say that.” She shook her head. “That- that’s- that’s not- um.” She sighed and smiled briefly, then stuffed her hands back in her pockets and looked at the snow-covered ground, her eyebrows furrowing even further.

Lucy then appeared at her side. “Would you like to meet Mr. Tumnus?” She asked. “He’s my very good friend. I met him the first time I came here.”

Aria shrugged, her hands still in her pockets. “Sure.” She said, not seeing the harm in seeing the dream through to the end. She’d probably wake up soon, and her friend, Nicole, would love to try and analyze this. Lucy offered Aria her hand and the older girl took it hesitantly.

Then, the little girl began leading the way, with Aria in tow, and telling the girl all about how she first met this Mr. Tumnus. “We were playing hide and seek, you see.” She said. “And I found the wardrobe in the spare room. It was covered with this big cloth, but I pulled it off and hid inside. I was trying to go all the way to the back, so that Peter would never find me, only there was no back, just this forest.”

Aria nodded, listening to the little girl intently, making sure to try and remember everything so that she could tell Nicole when she woke up. But she yawned widely, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Am I boring you?” Lucy asked, though she still had a smile on her face.

Aria shook her head. “Oh, no. I just only woke up half an hour ago.” She said, yawning again, but managing to keep her mouth closed around it.

Lucy laughed. “But it’s in the middle of the afternoon!” She cried.

“Well, it may be the middle of the afternoon in Finchley, but it’s only seven in the morning where I’m from.” Aria said, smiling down at the little girl.

“Where’s that?” Lucy asked, now far more interested in Aria than in telling her story.

“America.” She said. “Georgia, actually.”

“Oh.” Lucy said. “Do you think that America’s going to join the war soon?”

Aria looked down at her, her smile faltering slightly. “We’re already in the war, we have been for years.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, you haven’t.” She said. “We heard the Prime Minister just yesterday, saying that you were only sending us ammunition and things, and that your President didn’t want to get involved.”

Aria smirked. “Our president was the one that started it.” She said. “You might not remember, it was about six or seven years ago.”

Lucy stopped, forcing Aria to do the same. The other three stopped, too. “The war only started two years ago.”

Aria looked down at Lucy, then at the other siblings. Susan nodded an affirmation. Then Aria looked back at the little girl. “What war are you talking about, then?” She asked.

“World War Two, of course.” She said. “The one we’re fighting right now? We had to leave Finchley because of the air raids.”

Aria closed her eyes and scratched the bridge of her nose. She then opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped and shook her head. “Okay.” She said. “That makes complete sense.” 

Susan touched a hand to Aria’s shoulder. “Why?” She said. “What war were you talking about?” 

Aria shook her head. “I don’t think you want to know.” She said. Then she looked at Susan. “What year is it where you come from?” She asked.

Susan smiled slightly. “Why it’s nineteen-forty, of course.” She said. Then her smile faltered at Aria’s look. “What year is it where you come from?”

Aria sighed. “Two-thousand and eight.”

Susan shook her head, removing her hand from Aria’s shoulder. “That’s impossible.” She said.

Aria nodded. “Yes.” She said and took a deep breath. “That’s why it’s a dream.” She then turned around and walked away, her hand leaving Lucy’s limp one.


	3. A Kidnapped Faun

Chapter Three: A Kidnapped Faun

“Completely mental.” Edmund said, shaking his head and staring after the girl.

Peter shook his head. “I don’t think she is.” He said. Edmund and Susan stared at him. “We don’t know anything about this place.” He continued. “She may well be from the future. And she may think that’s we’re all mental as well.” 

Edmund shook his head. “But we’re not.” He said.

Peter looked at him. “Imagine how she feels.” He said. “She falls down into a place that she’s never seen before and meets four strangers who tell her that they’re from the past. She’s already trying to put it all off as a dream. I don’t know about you two, but I, for one, am going to believe her.” He then took Lucy’s hand and hurried to catch up with Aria, leaving Susan and Edmund to follow them.

Peter and Lucy soon caught up with Aria, as she was not moving very fast, and Lucy took up her hand again. “Why don’t you finish telling us about meeting Mr. Tumnus the first time, Lucy?” Peter said, glancing at Aria and smiling. The girl smiled back softly, and then looked down at Lucy.

Peter had to admit that the girl didn’t look as if she was from their time. The clothes that she wore were one testament to that. The dark blue pants of a rough cloth, the hooded jacket the was partly shiny and partly of a sky-blue fur, even the label on the side of it was different, reading “The North Face”. Her bag was normal enough, except that it was made of the same rough cloth as her pants. 

She looked normal, however, even somewhat pretty. She had long brown hair, though some of the strands shone gold. It reached just below her shoulder blades, where the ends curled softly. Her eyes were brown, too, with slight scatterings of dark green. Her skin was very fair, with a few freckles and a pretty color in her cheeks. 

Peter then tried to pay more attention to Lucy’s story. But seeing as he had heard it before, he soon left the two girls, choosing instead to slide down a steep snow bank. He had never seen this much snow, but according to Lucy’s story, it had been winter here for a hundred years, and he figured that he would get sick of it soon, but he decided to go ahead and enjoy now.

He then turned and watched as Aria helped Lucy down the steep bank as his little sister, still intent on telling her tale, stumbled a bit. Aria simply pulled her back up, still listening, and still smiling. He then returned to allowing Lucy to lead them, listening in to the story every once in awhile.

He could only tell when they were getting close when Lucy began to get even more excited and pulled Aria’s hand, making her walk even faster. “You’ll love it, Aria.” She said. “I promise. Mr. Tumnus will have gobs of tea, and lots and lots of…” She then trailed of as they rounded one last corner as she spotted an open door. No, not just open, broken.

The group stopped, Lucy, dropping Aria’s hand. “Lu?” Peter said, but this sister didn’t pay him any attention, instead running towards the broken door. “Lucy!” He cried, racing after her, the others not far behind. 

They entered the house and stopped again. It was in complete shambles. There was snow everywhere. Every single piece of furniture was knocked over and broken papers, candles, and knick-naks were strewn everywhere. Books had been knocked off the bookshelves and torn apart, pillows had been slashed to ribbons, leaving their stuffing lying about with everything else. 

Lucy went down the staircase slowly, surveying the damage, with the others following her. “Who would do something like this?” She asked, her voice quiet. Edmund stepped on something and heard it crack. Looking down, he saw the portrait of a fawn, claw marks having cracked the glass of the figure. 

Peter glared at him for a moment before his attention moved to a piece of parchment nailed to a column. He reached out and ripped it off before reading it. “Faun Tumnus, is hereby charged with high treason.” He said, looking up and exchanging glances with Susan. He saw Aria raise an eyebrow as she came to stand behind him and Lucy stood next to him, putting her hand on his arm and leaning in to read the parchment as well. “Against Her Imperial Majesty, Jadis, Queen of Narnia. For comforting her enemies and fraternizing with humans. Signed, Maugrim, captain of the secret police. Long live the queen.”

Next to the signature was a huge, clawed paw print. Susan took the parchment from him, looked at it for a moment, and then lowered it, saying, “All right, now we really should go back.” She looked at Peter, her eyes scared. 

“But what about Mr. Tumnus?” Lucy cried.

Susan looked at her. “If he was arrested just for being with a human, I don’t think there’s much we can do.” She said, trying to be comforting.

But Lucy just looked at her two eldest siblings imploringly. “You don’t understand, do you?” She said. “I’m the human, she must have found out he helped me.”

Peter looked at Susan, his thoughts scrambling. “Maybe we could call the police.” He said.

Susan shook the parchment at him. “These are the police.” She said. 

Peter leaned down to Lucy, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lu.” He said. “We’ll think of something.”

“Why?” Edmund asked. He was still all the way across the room. The others looked at him. “I mean,” He added. “He’s a criminal.”

Aria’s eyebrows narrowed, but then there was a rustle outside, and then the call of a bird. They all looked towards the empty doorway and could see a robin perched in a tree. And then it made a sound that was strangely like as ‘Psst’.

Susan turned back to the others. “Did that bird just ‘psst’ us?” She said. Aria opened her mouth, but no sound came out, so she just closed it again, shaking her head. Then Peter moved to the door, and then outside, everyone else following him. 

The bird flew away as Aria took Lucy’s hand again, her brow still furrowed. Peter looked back at her and she shrugged slightly before the group’s attention was drawn to the trees. There was a rustling noise on their right, then another on their left, followed by another ‘psst’ noise, but this time they couldn’t see anything it could have come from. 

Then, finally, there was another rustling noise just in front of them, behind a huge boulder, or maybe it was a bush, Aria couldn’t tell because it was so completely covered in snow. Lucy clutched her arm and Aria wrapped it around the little girl’s shoulders, feeling strangely protective of her, and then her free hand went to Susan shoulder. Susan held on to Peter, and Edmund stayed back. Then, a beaver scampered out from behind the boulder and sniffed at the air.

Susan dropped her hand from Peter’s shoulder, and Aria dropped hers from Susan. Lucy didn’t clutch to Aria quite as tightly, but didn’t let go as she said, “It-It’s a beaver.” Aria breathed out harshly, sending the loose hairs in her face flying upwards. 

The beaver came closer to them, still smelling the air frantically. And then it seemed to calm slightly as it continued to approach them. Peter took a step forward, bringing his hand up and rubbing his fingers together as if the beaver were a dog, saying “Here, boy.” And clicking his tongue at it. When he got close enough, he laid his hand out flat. 

Aria was just about to stop him, since beavers do have extremely sharp teeth, when the creature looked at Peter’s hand, then at Peter, then at the hand again, and said, “Well, I ain’t gonna smell it, if that’s what you want.”

Peter backed away from it very quickly. Susan’s eyes widened, and Aria’s jaw dropped. Lucy simply smiled delightedly as she giggled. Peter drew his hand back slowly, saying, “Oh, sorry.” And looking back at Aria, who was staring at the beaver. 

The creature than looked at the little girl and said, “Lucy Pevensie?” 

Lucy stopped giggling and began to walk toward the beaver, Aria’s arm falling limply back to her side. “Y-Yes?” Lucy said. The beaver held out a bit of cloth to her, and she took it hesitantly, bringing it up to her face to examine it as Peter and Susan moved closer to her. “Hey, that’s the hankie I gave to Mr. Tumn-“

“Tumnus.” The beaver interrupted her. “He got it to me just before they took him.”

“Is he all right?” Lucy asked.

The beaver looked around, then threw and thumb over his shoulder before whispering, “Further in.” And scampering back into the woods. 

Peter and Lucy began to follow him, but Susan pulled them back. “What are you doing?” She whispered harshly. 

Edmund came up next to her. “She’s right.” He said. “How do we know we can trust him.” 

Peter glared at Edmund for a moment before shaking his head a bit and saying, “He said he knows the fawn.” 

Susan just looked at him. “He’s a beaver.” She said. “He shouldn’t be saying anything.” 

Then the topic of their conversation appeared on top of the boulder again. “Everything alright?” He asked. 

Peter turned to him. “Yes.” He said. “We were just talking.”

The beaver sniffed at the air again. “That’s better left for safer corners.” He said and scampered off again.

Lucy turned to the others, her eyes also searching the forest. “He means the trees.” She said. Susan and Edmund looked at each other and Peter sighed before turning Lucy around and staring towards the forest, taking Aria’s arm as they went.

“Are you all right?” He asked her quietly.

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to look slightly glazed over. “I am going to need so much therapy after this.”


	4. A Flawed Prophecy

Chapter Four: A Flawed Prophecy

The beaver led the group into a deep chasm and through a stone archway, telling them to hurry. “Come on.” He said. “We don’t want to be caught out here after nightfall.” It took them an hour to get through the long tunnel, and they had to walk single file due to the walls gradually closing in on them as they went. The beaver went first, then Lucy, Aria came next, followed by Peter, then Edmund, and Susan brought up the rear.

When they finally squeezed out of the end, the beaver cried out happily, “Oh, blimey! Looks like the old girl’s got the kettle on. Nice cup a Rosy Lee.” And the group looked up to see an extremely large dam, complete with windows, a door, and a smoking chimney. Aria squeezed her eyes shut and scratched the bridge of her nose again before she sighed in resignation.

Lucy, though, was enchanted by the ‘house’. “It’s lovely.” She said, standing close to the beaver. 

“Oh, it’s merely a trifle, you know.” The beaver said. “Still plenty to do, ain’t quite finished it yet. It’ll look a business when it is, though.” Lucy smiled and looked back at Peter and Aria, the latter of which gave her a slightly strained, yet indulgent smile. 

As the group started down the hill towards the door, they heard a feminine voice. “Beaver?” It said. “Is that you?” Then another beaver, apparently this one’s wife, appeared at the door. “I’ve been worried sick.” She cried. “If I find out you’ve been out with Badger again, I’ll- oh.” She stopped and clasped her hands to her mouth. “Oh, those aren’t badgers. Oh, I never thought I’d live to see this day.” Then she turned to Mr. Beaver and her voice lowered a bit. “Look at my fur.” She accused. “You couldn’t give me ten minute’s warning?”

Mr. Beaver shrugged. “I would’ve given you a week if I thought it would’ve helped.” He said, chuckling at her. Peter, Lucy, and Susan giggled as well, but Aria only cracked a smile, still slightly in shock. 

Mrs. Beaver simply brushed it off, though, and said, “Oh, come inside, and we’ll see if we can’t get you some food.” She turned and then stopped, adding, “And some civilized company.” Mr. Beaver just laughed and then gestured for them to follow her, telling them to watch their steps. Again, Peter took Aria’s arm and led her forward, the two walking behind the other girls. 

Once inside, the group hung up their coats, as it was nice and warm. Peter even gallantly offered to take Aria’s coat, but she declined, deciding to go ahead and keep it on. She kept her hands in her pockets the entire time Mrs. Beaver fussed around them all, eventually making them all sit down. 

There weren’t enough chairs for them all, but Aria and Edmund made the best of it, Edmund sitting on the stairs away from everyone else, and Aria sitting on the floor next to Lucy, her knees drawn into her chest and her chin resting on top of them. Now that they were all settled, and everyone, except Ed, had a nice, hot cup of tea in front of them, Peter spoke. “Is there nothing we can do to help Tumnus?” He asked.

Mr. Beaver sighed. “They’ll have taken him to the witch’s house.” He said. “And you know what they say, there’s few that go through them gates, that come out again.” Lucy looked down at Aria, who came out of her slump for a moment to knock Lucy’s knee with her head and smile slightly.

Mrs. Beaver, however, plopped a tray of what she called fish and chips down onto the table, that the Pevensie’s started, and Aria declined to look at. Then she touched Lucy’s shoulder. “But there is hope, dear.” She said. “Lot’s of hope.” She added, looking to Mr. Beaver.

Her husband spat out what little he had drunk, crying, “Oh, yeah! There’s a right bit more than hope!” He then looked towards the door quickly and then back at Peter. “Aslan is on the move.” He whispered. He said it so reverently that the four humans sitting at the table could only smile at him.

Only Edmund, getting up from his seat on the stairs and walking towards the table, said, “Who’s Aslan?”

Mr. Beaver laughed. “Who’s Aslan?” He said, still holding his belly. “You cheeky little blighter.” Then Mrs. Beaver hit his arm, seeing that the group in front of them truly had no idea who this Aslan was. Mr. Beaver stopped laughing, and said, “You don’t know, do you?” 

Peter tried to reason with him. “Well,” He said. “We haven’t exactly been here very long.”

“Well, he’s only the King of the whole Wood.” Mr. Beaver said. “The top geezer. The real King of Narnia.” 

Edmund looked slightly disgusted and moved away from them all as Mrs. Beaver tried to explain. “He’s been away.” She said. “For a long while.”

“But he’s just got back!” Mr. Beaver cried excitedly. “And he’s waitin’ for you near the stone table.”

Peter looked at Susan and Lucy just looked at Mr. Beaver. “He’s waiting for us?” She asked. They were all confused, even Aria looked up to listen.

“You’re bloomin’ jokin’” Mr. Beaver cried. He looked at Mrs. Beaver. “They don’t even know about the prophecy.”

Mrs. Beaver tried to calm him down.” Well,” She said. “Then…” She gestured for him to tell them, which he did.

“Look,” He said, sighing and beginning to count off on his paws. “Aslan’s return, Tumnus’s arrest, the secret police, it’s all happening because of you!”

Susan was confused. “You’re blaming us?” She asked.

Mrs. Beaver shook her head. “No!” She said. “Not blaming, thanking you.”

Mr. Beaver sighed again, looking as if he didn’t want to be saying whatever came next, but he did anyway. “There’s a prophecy.” He said. “’When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done.”

Susan smiled slightly. “You know, that doesn’t really rhyme.” She said. And Peter heard Aria scoff light-heartedly. 

“No, I know it don’t.” Mr. Beaver said. “But you’re kinda missing the point.”

Mrs. Beaver put a comforting paw on her husband’s back and took over the explanation for him. “It has long been foretold that two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve will defeat the white witch and restore peace to Narnia.”

Peter and Susan looked at each other. “And you think we’re the one’s” Peter asked, not believing it. 

Mr. Beaver began to get angry again. “Well, you’d better be.” He cried. “’Cause Aslan’s already figured out your army.”

Lucy looked to Peter, too. “Our army?” She cried. But Peter kept looking at the Beaver’s. 

Susan tried to reason with him. “Mum sent us away so that we wouldn’t get caught up in a war.”

Peter then shook his head at the beavers. “I think you’ve made a mistake.” He said. “Besides, there are five of us.”

“Yes.” Lucy said, placing a hand on Aria’s shoulder. “What about Aria?” 

But the girl they were talking about just chuckled without any humor. She had already put her chin back on her knees and was looking away from the table. “Oh, don’t worry about me.” She said. “I’ll be waking up soon, I hope.” She then swallowed and closed her eyes.

Mr. and Mrs. Beaver looked to Peter. “She’s had a bit of a shock.” He said. “We all have, but we, at least, had a bit of a warning.” He smiled slightly at Lucy. “Still, Lucy’s right, what about Aria?”

Mr. Beaver shook his head. “There was never anything about a fifth human.” He said. “But I’m sure that you can ask Aslan when we see him.”

Peter tried again. “But we’re not heroes.” He said.

“We’re from Finchley.” Susan cried, as if it made a difference, which it couldn’t have because the beavers merely looked at each other, not having any idea what Finchley was. Then Susan began to stand. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She said. “But we really have to go.”

Mr. Beaver wouldn’t hear of it. “Oh, but you can’t just leave.” He said. 

“He’s right.” Lucy agreed, looking at Peter imploringly. “We have to help Mr. Tumnus.”

Peter, having risen, too, looked down at her. “It’s out of our hands.” He said. Lucy looked towards Aria, but the girl gave no response, her eyes still closed. Then she looked to the beavers. “I’m sorry.” Peter said. “But it’s time the five of us were getting home.” He turned away. “Ed.” He said, but there was no answer. The dam was empty of the other sibling. “Ed?” Peter asked again. Then they all noticed the open door. Peter turned to Susan. “I’m gonna kill him.” He said.


	5. A Missing Sibling

Chapter Five: A Missing Sibling

“You may not have to.” Mr. Beaver told Peter, and the boy turned to him, a scowl on his face. “Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?” He asked. Peter nodded jerkily, too angry to speak. “Do any of you know if he met anyone while he was here?”

Lucy frowned. “No.” She said. “He never told us what he had done while he was here. All I know is that he didn’t go with me to Mr. Tumnus’s.”

“Why?” Susan asked. “Who do you think he met?”

“The white witch.” Mr. Beaver said. “I saw him looking towards her house earlier. It’s right between those two hills out there.”

Aria opened her eyes. “He didn’t take his coat.” She said. “So, he must know where he’s going. At least, I would hope that he did.”

“But she’s bad.” Lucy said. 

Aria placed a long white hand on top of the little girl’s. “If she got to him before Mr. Tumnus did, then he may believe that she’s good.” She said. “Now that I think about it, he has been hinting at something like that all day. I thought he was simply trying to be annoying, but maybe that wasn’t the case.”

The Pevensie’s and the beavers stared at her. It had been the longest speech that she had given all day. And it was the first time that she didn’t try to put anything off as a dream. If Peter hadn’t been so angry at his brother, then he would have admired that she had only said this to calm Lucy down, but as it was, he simply reached for his coat.

He threw it on and fled the dam, not even stopping to make sure that everyone else was following him. Mr. Beaver was out next as Susan put on her coat and Aria helped Lucy in to hers. The girls then all tried to catch up to Peter and Mr. Beaver, leaving Mrs. Beaver at the dam.

They had not gone far, when Peter turned around and shouted for them to hurry, but Aria knew that they had to be a long way behind Edmund, because his tracks were very faint, having been filled in by the falling snow. At the final small incline, Aria help Lucy up and then the whole group stopped at the sight of the ice castle. 

And that’s just what it was, too. The whole things must have been made of pure ice, with two large ice sickles as it’s deadly-looking towers. It glowed beautifully, sure, but Aria could see how dangerous it was even from all the way out here.

The four humans and the beaver watched as Edmund entered the gates, and Lucy shouted his name, trying to stop him. Mr. Beaver shushed her as she grabbed for Aria. And then Peter made a break for it, thinking for some reason that he could bring Edmund back. 

“No!” Mr. Beaver cried, snatching at the arm of Peter’s coat and pulling him back with considerable strength. 

“Get off me.” Peter cried, pulling his coat from the beaver’s grasp.

“You’re playing into her hands.” Mr. Beaver said, his voice desperate.

“We can’t just let him go!” Susan cried.

“He’s our brother!” Lucy added, trying to reason with the beaver. 

“He’s the bait!” Mr. Beaver cried again. Trying to make the siblings see reason. “The witch wants all four of you.” He said.

“Peter glared down at him. “Why?” He asked.

“To stop the prophecy from coming true.” He sais, turning from one sibling to another. He then turned back to Peter and said, “To kill you!” The four humans looked up only to see the massive gates closing behind Edmund, knowing that now there was nothing they could do.

They stood still for a moment before Lucy buried her face in Aria’s coat and Susan rounded on Peter. “This is all your fault.” She snarled.

“My fault!” Peter cried.

“None of this would’ve happened if you had just listened to me in the first place!” Susan accused.

“Oh, so you knew this would happen?” Peter scoffed. 

“I didn’t know what would happen.” Susan said, her tone softening the tiniest bit. Then she found new force. “Which is why we should have left while we still could!”

“Stop it!” Lucy cried, dragging her face from Aria’s abdomen. They all stopped to look at her. 

“This isn’t going to help your brother.” Aria said. Her eyes accusing both. 

“They’re right.” Mr. Beaver said. “Only Aslan can help your brother now.” 

Peter looked down at the beaver, a queer sort of defeat registering on his face. “Then take us to him.” He said. He could hear Aria sigh heavily as he turned to look back at Edmund’s chosen prison.

They stood there for only a few moments before Mr. Beaver urged them to begin the slow trek back to the dam. Lucy still clung to Aria, and you might have thought that it would have tripped to older girl up, but Peter was surprised to see that she handled it well, almost as if she unconsciously accommodated his little sister.

He sidled up alongside them, allowing Mr. Beaver to lead the way, and Susan to sulk in the rear. His elder sister still felt that they should have gone home, and Peter really didn’t want to hear another, ‘I told you so’. “Do you have any siblings?” He asked Aria as they all navigated the slippery descent.

She shook her head. “I’m an only child.” She said. “But I’ve always wanted a little sister.” Then she chuckled, hugging Lucy a little closer. “Although, I probably wouldn’t know what to do with one when I got her.” She added, which made Lucy laugh. 

“How old are you?” Peter asked her.

She smiled. “I just turned fifteen.” She said. “How about you?” She asked.

“Fourteen.” He said. “But I’ll be turning fifteen soon, too.”

Aria nodded, and then posed to same question to Lucy. “I’m eight and a half.” She said.

Aria sighed. “Oh, how I miss being eight and a half.” She said, winking slightly at Peter, who smiled back. Then, an eerie howl broke the silence of the darkness, making them all freeze.

Then, Mr. Beaver sprung into action, yelling for them to hurry, to run. Aria grabbed Lucy’s hand and followed the beaver as fast as she could tow the younger girl, and Peter grabbed a hold of Susan. The group stumbled, and Lucy nearly fell twice, and would have had it not been for Aria’s firm hold. 

They came upon the dam very quickly and, as they all burst through the door, Mr. Beaver yelled to his wife, “Hurry mama, they’re after us!” 

“Ooh! Right then!” She cried and then began grabbing things from the shelves.

“What are you doing?” Peter cried, but she waved him off with one hand.

“Oh, you’ll be thanking me later. It’s a long journey, and Mr. Beaver gets pretty cranky when he’s hungry.”

“I’m cranky now!” Mr. Beaver shouted.

Susan began to rush about the house, too, as Aria grabbed the things from Mrs. Beaver and stuffed them into her messenger bag. “Do you think we’ll need jam?” Susan asked as she and Mrs. Beaver tied up a few loaves of bread in the tablecloth. 

“Only if the witch serves toast!” Peter said. Susan glared at him for a moment before they all heard the barking just outside. Then, there was snarling and cracking sounds as the wolves tried to break through the roof.

Mr. Beaver silently opened a cupboard door and motioned them all inside. Peter lit a torch as Susan took Lucy’s hand. Then they quickly began climbing down the thin rope. First Mrs. Beaver, then Lucy, then Susan, followed by Aria and Peter, and finally Mr. Beaver.

Somehow, Mr. Beaver and Peter ended up in the front. The group hurried as fast as they could, the five humans crouching low to avoid cracking their heads on the ceiling. Suddenly, Lucy tripped over a tree root and they all stopped, hearing more howls and barking.

“They’re in the tunnel.” Lucy whispered, and they all looked behind them as Mr. Beaver shouted for them to hurry. The group ran until the reached a dead end.

“You should have brought a map!” Mrs. Beaver cried.

“There wasn’t room next to the jam!” Mr. Beaver retorted, and then preceded to climb up the wall to a hole at the top. He was followed by Mrs. Beaver, then Susan went, followed by Lucy, and then Peter pushed Aria in front of him, bringing up the rear again. They five climbed the dirt walls with more than a little difficulty, but they all managed to get through and Peter and Mr. Beaver managed to plug up the hole with a wine keg as Lucy tripped over something else.

When they looked to see what it was, Mr. Beaver stopped suddenly. They were standing amidst frozen houses, and their inhabitants were stone figures. Mr. Beaver stepped up to a badger and touched its arms hesitantly. “I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Beaver said to his, laying a comforting hand on his back. 

Aria made a slight gasping noise and turned away, straight into Peter’s shoulder. He put a comforting arm around her and another around Lucy when she, too realized that the stone figures had once been alive. “What happened here?” He asked.

“This is what becomes of those who cross the witch.” Said a new voice. And Peter somehow got the girls behind him protectively. The voice came from a fox who had just appeared on the ledge of one of the houses. 

“You take one more step, traitor, and I’ll chew you to splinters.” Mr. Beaver threatened, taking a few steps towards the fox despite Mrs. Beaver trying to hold him back. 

“Relax.” The fox said, jumping down. “I’m one of the good guys.”

“Yeah?” Mr. Beaver said, still trying to get at the fox. “Well, you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones.”

The fox shuddered and then rolled his eyes. “An unfortunate family resemblance.” He said. “But we can argue breeding later, right now we’ve got to move.” He added, as the barks became louder once more.

Peter turned to him. “What did you have in mind?” He asked. The fox smirked and glanced up at the tree behind Peter and the girls. One that, unfortunately, didn’t have a lot of low, hanging branches. “Right.” He said, taking Lucy’s hand. He was tall enough to just reach the bottommost branch if he jumped, but that would mean helping everyone else first. 

“Hurry Peter.” Susan whispered as the barks grew more frantic. That hadn’t yet gotten through the barricade, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t about to try. Bending down and putting his arms around Lucy’s legs, Peter lifted her until she was high enough to grab the branch. Once she was up and climbing, Susan was next. He made a stirrup with his hands and soon she was up as well. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver had gone around to the other side of the tree and were climbing it with their claws, so that left only Aria.

“Come on.” Peter said, his hands still fastened together for her.

She shook her head. “I can’t.” She whispered, her eyes fixated on the top of the tree. “It’s too high.” 

Peter took her shaking hand, forcing her to look at him. “I’ll help you.” He said. “You won’t fall, I promise.” He watched her swallow convulsively and stare into his eyes for a moment before the howling started and she nodded quickly. He then fastened his fingers together in the stirrup again and she placed her foot in it, her hands on his shoulders.

“Come on Aria.” Lucy said, smiling down at her. “It’s not too bad. You can do it.”

Aria looked down at Peter, who nodded, and then one of her hands left his shoulder and reached up, just as he straitened, her fingers only just touched the branch, so he tried to lift her foot a little higher, and then her fingers wrapped around it. She pulled herself up as he pushed at her foot, now bringing her other hand up to help her. Then she climbed, using her arms mostly, because her shoes had no grip to them whatsoever.

Now, Peter jumped up and clung to the branch, pulling himself up and then climbing just to the side of Aria, making sure that she was still all right. They group all ended up together, the branches far enough apart that they could stand o none and hold on to the one above it. Aria reaching them last, clung to the tree’s trunk, her cheek pressed against the rough bark, her eyes closed.


	6. A Narrow Escape

Chapter Six: A Narrow Escape

They had made it just in time. The fox was below them, sweeping away their tell-tale footprints with his tale, just as the wolves burst through the barricade and into the clearing. “Greetings, gents!” The fox cried. “Lost something, have we?”

The lead wolf snarled at him. “Don’t patronize me! I know where your allegiance lies.” The pack kept a tight circle around the fox, but the smaller animal kept his eyes only on the leader. “We’re looking for some humans.” It growled.

The fox chuckled. “Humans? Here in Narnia? Now, that’s a valuable bit of information, don’t you think?” But now one of the other wolves, which the fox had not been keeping his eye one, rushed at him, his teeth gripping the poor creature’s back.

Up in the tree, Lucy and Mr. Beaver almost cried out to stop the wolves, but Peter and Mrs. Beaver only just stopped them. Aria opened her eyes, trying to focus only on what was happening down on the ground, and not on how far down the ground actually was. 

“Your reward is your life.” The lead wolf said, coming close to the fox’s face. Then he chuckled. “It’s not much, but still. Where are the fugitives?”

The fox sighed, as if defeated. The group up in the tree all felt a moment of panic before the fox gestured away from them. “North.” He said. “They ran north.”

The pack leader looked at his minions. “Smell them out.” He said and loped away. The wolf holding the fox in his mouth threw him halfway across the clearing before the others joined their leader. Once the barks had all died away. The group in the tree began to descend. 

Peter left Susan to help Lucy as he turned to Aria, whose eyes still watched to poor fox, and whose arms still hugged to trunk. He touched a hand to her shoulder. “Are you ready to go down now?” He whispered. She nodded fervently and loosened her arms from their firm hold ever so slightly. “Don’t worry.” He said, his hands going to her shoulders. “I’ve got you.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him nervously before letting go of the trunk completely, leaving only her fingertips to steady her balance. Peter let go of one of her shoulders and took her hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go and starting to climb down, showing her the easiest way. She came down immediately after him, only looking down to see where he was occasionally. 

Then, suddenly, her shoe slipped from one branch, and her fingers couldn’t grip the other tightly enough in time. She didn’t scream, just gasped in terror as she fell. Her hands flailed for a moment before connecting with the branch Peter held. The boy was waiting for her, his arm immediately snatching at her waist and pulling her to him, his own feet stead and his grip firm. “All right?” He asked, his face very close to hers.

She breathed in shakily and nodded, murmuring a thank you and regaining her footing, once again allowing his to descend first. It was very slow going from that point on, but the two eldest children finally made it down, only to find that Mr. Beaver was starting to get a fire going while Mrs. Beaver and Lucy were helping the fox, and he was explaining what had happened to the animals living here. Aria and Peter sat down, accepting the bits of food the Susan handed to them from the tablecloth pouch.

"They were helping Tumnus." The fox said, wincing slightly as Mrs. Beaver applied a salve to the cuts on his back. "This witch got here before I did. Ow!" He cried as the salve began to sting.

Lucy, now sitting across from him, eating a bit of cheese that Susan had passed to her, asked, "Are you all right?"

The fox chuckled a bit. "Well, I wish I could say that their bark was worse than their bite." He whimpered and cried another 'Ow'. 

Mrs. Beaver put a hand to his shoulder. "Oh, stop squirming." She said. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day."

Mr. Beaver shuddered. "Worse day of the year." He said. 

The fox shuddered away from Mrs. Beaver's ministrations, saying, "Thank you for your kindness, but I'm afraid that all the cure I have time for." He stood and shook himself slightly.

Lucy looked at him. "You're leaving?" She asked. 

The fox bowed to them all. "It has been a pleasure, my Queen, and an honor." He said. "But time is short and Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."

Mrs. Beaver gasped and clutched her chest as Mr. Beaver asked, "You've seen Aslan?"

"What's he like?" Mrs. Beaver asked excitedly.

The fox chuckled. "Like everything we've ever heard." He said, then turned to the children. "You'll be glad to have him by your side in the battle against the witch."

Peter looked away, biting his lip while Susan said, "But we're not planning on fighting any witch." 

The fox turned to Peter, who looked up at him. "But, surely, King Peter...?" He said, his voice hopeful. "The prophecy?"

Mr. Beaver also looked at Peter imploringly. "We can't go to war without you." He said.

Peter looked down again, then at Susan, he sighed slightly at the look on her face before flicking his last bit of cheese into the fire. "We just want our brother back." He said, an apology in his eyes. Susan and Lucy both looked away and Aria scratched her brow again. She then looked at Peter, who was staring into the fire. She could just picture the torment that was going on inside of him. Wanting to protect his family and getting them out of here, but also wanting to help all these poor creatures who were so enslaved by fear. She took a deep breath and then placed her hand on his arm, feeling the soft fur beneath her fingers. When he looked up at her, she smiled briefly before taking her hand, and eyes, away.

The fox bowed to them all again, anyway, saying his farewells and scampering off, paying no heed to the wounds on his back. "Well," Mrs. Beaver said. "Now that you've all have a bit to eat, I ay we should bundle down and get a few hours of rest before tomorrow. We've got a long journey ahead of us." The four nodded, and eventually they all finished what they were eating and stood, trying to find a few places that we're completely covered in snow where they could catch a few winks without catching colds. 

Lucy immediately went to Aria's side and took her hand. "You don't have a proper coat." She said, pulling Aria along with her. "You can sleep with me and mine will keep us both warm." Aria chuckled a bit and smiled down at the little girl, throwing a slightly questioning glance Peter's way. Peter nodded, knowing somehow that Lucy would be safe with Aria. This feeling was reaffirmed when Aria sat down and pulled Lucy into her lap, catching the girl's hands between her own and rubbing them.

"Your hands are freezing." She said, her voice low. Then, she pulled a pair of worn red leather gloves from the pocket of her short coat. "Here." She said, pulling them onto Lucy's hands. "These have always kept me warm."

Lucy fingered the gloves on her hands. The fingers were far too long for her, but the old leather was smooth and soft. "How long have you had them?" She asked. 

Aria shrugged, playing with the extra cloth on Lucy's fingers. "Since I was around ten." She said. "But I think that they're magic." She added. "Because that was five years ago, and they've never stopped being warm and toasty."

Lucy stared at the gloves, fascinated. "Then how do you know they're magic?" She asked.

"Because my mother got a pair that were almost the exact same, but they fell apart about two years ago." Aria said, her voice mesmerizing. 

Lucy's mouth formed a 'wow' and the elder girl smiled. "Won't you need them?" Lucy asked. 

Aria shook her head. "I'll be fine. I promise. Now," She said. "I think it's time to get some sleep." She slid Lucy from her lap gently and removed her messenger bag from her shoulder. She placed it behind her and patted it. "It'll be a little hard." She said. "But I used it for a pillow in school all the time."

Lucy giggled. "You sleep in school?" She asked. 

Aria nodded. "well, we go so early in the morning that it's still dark outside. And I, for one, believe that the best thing to do when it's dark, is to sleep."

"Here, here." said Mr. Beaver, who had found a spot alongside his wife near the fire. Lucy yawned, bringing a leather-covered hand to her lips politely, and then she lay down, her head securely on Aria's makeshift pillow. Aria simply sat there for a moment, watching the fire as Peter and Susan found places for themselves as well. After a few moments, she lay down, too, but kept her eyes open, staring at the sky.

After a long time, she heard snores from where the Beaver's lay, and Lucy's breaths and deepened and slowed, bringing the little girl into the land of dreams. The very same land that Aria wished fervently that she could get out of. She sighed quietly and sat back up, stuffing her cold hands in her pockets and looking at the trees around her. What did she have now? Four siblings from the forties, one of them an outcast, she figured, a kidnapped faun, two married talking beavers, a helpful, talking fox, trees that spied on you, a witch queen that could turn people into stone, a secret police force of vicious talking wolves, an absent king, no wait, he was coming back, a prophecy in which she had no part.

She sighed again and scratched at the bridge of her nose, trying to comprehend what in the world was going on. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way that something like this could be real. But her fingers hurt from scraping against the bark of the tree, her knee still twinged a bit from her fall earlier today, so it couldn't be a dream, could it? You weren't supposed to feel anything in your dreams. But she always felt it when the little girl, Lucy, held her hand; when Peter had clutched at her waist to help her, that had felt real. She drew her knees into her chest and stared at the fire.

If this wasn't a dream, if this was really happening to her, then why was she here? Two girls and two boys, that's what that prophecy thing had said. Well, they had them, Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy. Two boys and two girls. All in one, package deal, over and out. If she wasn't needed here, then why couldn't she just go home? Why had she been brought here at all? There was no reason for it, no purpose, nothing. She brought a necklace out from underneath her coat and the familiar flower pendant. She could feel the painted metal between her fingers, could feel the ridges of it as she rubbed. "What is going on?" She whispered.

"I don't know." A voice whispered back. Aria jumped and looked towards the voice, finding Peter's eyes open and watching her. "Sorry." He said, sitting up, sill facing her. "Are you still thinking that you're dreaming?" He asked.

Aria shook her head. "It can't be a dream." She said. "But, it can't be real either, can it?" She looked at him. "I mean, things like this just can't happen. Not to mentally stable people at least."

Peter smirked at her. "Are you calling me mental?" He teased.

She shook her head. "No, no I..." She trailed off and mocked-glared. Then she sighed. "I just- I can understand that- no, I can't understand it, but I know that the four of you are here for a reason. At least, everyone else thinks that you are. It's just that - why did I come here? And how, for that, matter, did I get here in the first place?" She looked at him imploringly. "I mean, you all came here through that wardrobe, right?" Peter nodded. "Well, I just fell. Some girl pushed me off the curb and I fell. It should have just been next to the bus, but instead I'm in the middle of a forest with four people I don't and animals that can talk. That's just not normal, right?" She rubbed her necklace again and rested her chin on her knee. 

Peter smiled sympathetically at her. "Do you know what I think you need to do?" He asked. She shook her head, watching him from the corner of her eye. "I think that you should stop thinking about it so much. Whatever brought you here, brought you for a reason. No one we've met yet knows what it is, but I'll bet that this Aslan character might. So, just get some sleep, and we'll see him soon so that you can ask him."

Aria looked at him and sighed quietly. "Fine." She said, knowing that he was right. Then she smiled softly at him. "Good night, Peter." She said. 

He smiled back, laying down again. "Good night." He repeated, watching her as she, too, lay down, her head on her bag, her face towards the sky.


	7. An Old Forgotten Friend

Chapter Seven: An Old Forgotten Friend

The next morning, the children awoke slowly, Mr. Beaver shaking each of them awake as Mrs. Beaver passed pieces of bread to each of them. "Time to get going." He said, throwing snow on the ashes of the fire. "We've got a long journey ahead of us, and we need to hurry."

And so, the four stretched and got to their feet, munching on the dry, but soft, bread. Aria once again draped her messenger bag over her chest, gesturing for Lucy to keep her 'magical' gloves on when the little girl began to take them off. "You need them more than I do." She said, yawning and finishing her breakfast quickly before stuffing her hands back in her pockets. 

As the group began to head away from the clearing, Peter watched quietly as Mr. Beaver placed a hand on his friend's stone arm in a sorrowful farewell before taking a deep breath and beginning to march away very quickly. 

The group began to follow, the children still half asleep. This morning, Lucy hung back with Susan, so Aria and Peter walked next to each other in companionable silence. After they had been walking for an hour without stop, Peter glanced at her. "So, Aria," He said, and she glanced over at him. "Susan and I were wondering about your time."

Aria furrowed her brow. "My time?" she asked, confused. For a moment, her still-asleep brain thought he was asking her what time it was, and she almost told him that she didn't wear a watch, but then it clicked suddenly. "Oh! My time, you mean the year I'm from?"

Peter nodded. "I was concerned when you said that you were at war then, too." He said, searching her face as they trod through the deep snow. "Is the war still going on so many years from now?"

Aria shook her head, smiling at him slightly, not really believing that she was about to have this conversation. "No, it's a different war." Then she saw the hopeful look in his blue eyes and took a deep breath. "You're from 1940, right?" She asked, and he nodded quickly. "World War Two ended in 1945, sometime in the summer, I think. I don't really remember everything I learned, and it wasn't that much to begin with. I know that America joins the war a couple of days after the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor on December 7th in 1941. Oh!" She said, smiling again. "Sorry. Uh, the Allies win, so don't worry about that. I probably should have said that first."

Peter looked down, and she could see that there was almost a smile on his face. "You wouldn't happen to know when the London bombings will end, would you?"

Aria grimaced and bit her lip, trying to wrack her brain. "I know that your Royal Air Force kicks Hitler’s but and he ends up calling it off." She said, and then scratched the bridge of her nose again. "But I don't remember when that is. I think it's before America gets into the war, but I'm not positive, I'm sorry." She added when she saw his face fall slightly.

He turned to her. "No! Please, don't be sorry." He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's already more information than I was hoping for. And now, at least, we know for certain that everything's going to be all right in the end. Thank you for that."

His eyes were so fixed on her that she couldn't look away from them, and after a moment she began to feel a little uncomfortable. So she smiled slightly and shrugged slightly, and his hand dropped along with his eyes. "I'm glad I could help." She said and faced forward again. 

After a few moments Peter cleared his throat slightly. "So," He said, his voice a bit more lighthearted. "Is there anything else that we can look forward to in the future, besides another war?"

Aria shrugged again. "I don't know much about England." She admitted. "I know you get the Beatles sometime, a band, and they were pretty good apparently, but I don't know of much else." Peter nodded again, and the conversation dwindled back into silence.

Mr. Beaver glanced back at the children. "Hurry up, now!" He said. "We have to keep moving." Peter glanced at Aria, who glanced back, a small smirk on her face, and the two moved only the tiniest bit faster.

"How far do you suppose it is?" Aria asked. 

Peter shrugged. "Not too far, I should think. I mean, it is the inside of a wardrobe." He said, his smirk growing as Aria's faltered slightly.

"Did you really get here by walking through a wardrobe?" She asked, her voice slightly incredulous.

Peter nodded, sighing slightly. "Yes." He said. "And trust me, if I start to think about it too hard, like you or Susan are trying to do, I'd go completely mad that the improbabilities of it."

"But you don't." Aria said, remembering his advice from last night.

"No, I don't." He admitted. "Right now, I'm focusing only on how to get Edmund back so that we can all get home and put this behind us."

Aria reached out hesitantly and touched his arm, knowing that it was only slight comfort. "I'm very sorry about your brother." she said. "I know that it must be hard for you."

Peter expected a bit of anger to flair at her words. He didn't want anyone pitying him. He was the eldest, the protector. It was his responsibility to look out for them all, and this girl, this only child, could never truly know what that felt like. But the anger never came. Perhaps it was the way that she had said it. It hadn't been 'I understand how hard it is for you' or 'I know how hard it is', it had been the words in between, the 'must be' of her statement that showed him that she wasn't just being sympathetic, that she wasn't merely giving him pity, but empathy as well. And that was a nice change.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as her fingers fell away from his arm, and she looked away, not expecting a thank you or any reply at all, just letting him know she cared. 

After another hour, the trees thinned out and they began passing over a high, narrow stone archway. Here, they slowed to a stop, the four children staring mutely off into the distance. The very far distance. Lucy immediately felt for Aria's hand, who gave it unconsciously, the older girl's jaw slightly lax. Not one of them could really believe what they were seeing, save for the smallest of them.

Mr. Beaver was the one to break the stunned silence. "Now," He said. "Aslan's camp is near the stone table, just across the frozen river."

Peter started at this and turned to him. "River?" He asked, alarmed.

"Oh, the river's been frozen solid for a hundred years." Mrs. Beaver told him, her voice trying to be comforting.

Peter turned away, staring once again at the vast terrain that lay before them. "It's so far." He said, not really meaning it to be aloud, but unable to hold back his thoughts. He saw Aria nod slightly out of the corner of his eye.

Mrs. Beaver tried again. "It's the world, dear." She said. "Did you expect it to be small?"

Susan turned to Peter, a smirk on her face. "Smaller." She said and walked past the trio and the beavers. Peter continued to watch the 'world' for another few moments before he, too turned and began moving again, taking Aria's elbow with him. As the girl tore her eyes away from the scene, she scratched her nose yet again. 

"Do you still think that this is a dream?" Peter asked, watching her but sparing a glance to see the Lucy was, indeed, following them.

Aria gave a slight, breathy laugh before glancing at him. "Seriously," She said. "Even my mind couldn't come up with something like this." Then she sighed, smiled briefly at him, and strode forward, walking between he and Susan, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes watching her feet as they walked. 

The trees thickened again and stayed that way for yet another hour before they thinned out. Now, the group was walking almost single file along a vast, snow-covered plain. When the group was about a third of the way across it, Mr. Beaver turned around to the children again. "Come on humans!" He cried. "While we're still young!"

Peter rolled his eyes as Lucy caught up with him, Aria and Susan pausing for a moment so that they could all clump together for a moment, each of them slightly annoyed by the beaver. "If he tells us to hurry one more time," Peter growled playfully, dipping to a knee so that Lucy could climb on his back. "I'm gonna turn him into a big, fluffy hat." Lucy giggled as he straitened again, Susan and Aria both smiling.

"Hurry up!" came another call in an all-too-familiar voice. The group sighed again, almost in unison.

"He is getting a little bossy." Lucy lamented, looking at Susan, who nodded in agreement. 

Suddenly, the Beavers were frantic. "Go!" Mrs. Beaver cried, gesturing wildly. "Behind you! It's her!"

The group turned quickly and saw a horse-drawn sleigh bearing down on them quickly. "Run!" Mr. Beaver cried and the four began to run, Peter quickly setting Lucy back on her feet and grabbing her hand. 

He saw that Aria was pausing, trying to wait for he and Lucy. "Run!" He yelled at her, reiterating Mr. Beaver's statement, and the girl turned and fled, keeping pace with Susan. The plain was very far across, and it took them longer than they'd have like to get across it, and as they entered the first sparse trees, Peter glanced behind him to find that the sleigh had not slowed. "Hurry!" he cried again.

Mr. and Mrs. Beaver ushered them to the side slightly and down into a small cave, Mr. Beaver shouting for them to dive inside. Actually, it was far too small to be a real cave, more like a nook made of rocks, but it blocked them from view effectively and it was fairly dry inside. The group huddled together, all trying to calm their breathing as the bells of the sleigh stopped just above them. Susan gripped Aria's hand, as the girl was sitting next to her, and Lucy, though gripping Peter's hand, nuzzled herself up under the girl's arm, her small face buried in the hair on her shoulders. The beavers were on opposite sides of the four children, and the entire group stared up at the ceiling of their tiny hiding place. 

Then, suddenly there were footsteps, and stopped exactly above their heads, kicking snow down in front of the entrance to the nook, causing Lucy to gasp quietly and Aria to clutch her even closer. They could all plainly see the large shadow on a snow embankment in front of them. It stood completely still for a moment before it moved off to the left slowly. Mr. Beaver sniffed the air a few times, but other than that the group did not move an inch. 

Then, after a moment, Lucy drew her face out of Aria's shoulder. "Maybe she's gone." She said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 

Aria looked down at the little girl's face, and then up at Peter over her head. He could see the fear in her eyes and he let go of Lucy's hand. " I suppose I'll go look." He said, beginning to get up. 

Aria's brow creased with concern for a moment, but it was Mr. Beaver who stopped him first. "No!" He whispered fiercely. "You're worth nothing to Narnia dead." And he began moving forward to go himself.

"But neither are you, Beaver." His wife said, her voice soft but urgent, her paw reaching out for him. 

He turned back and took her hand in his. "Thanks, sweetheart." He told her, his voice tender, and then he walked out, Peter sinking back to his former position and Lucy snatching his hand back.

Aria watched him for a moment before turning to look at the spot Mr. Beaver had left, noticing Susan's anxious face and squeezing her hand tightly. The four looked back at the ceiling again when they heard the faint clank of a metal harness, and then footsteps drawing nearer again.

Lucy screamed as Mr. Beaver's head popped into view from above them, and Aria's breath left her in a startled, and slightly pained, gasp. "Come out! Come out!" He cried, a smile on his furry face. "I hope you've all been good, 'cause there's someone here to see ya'!" 

Now, the danger over, the group slowly began to exit the small cave. Peter going first, followed by Aria and Lucy, who still clung to her, and then Susan, who, now that the danger was averted, was smiling softly. They paused slightly as they saw the old man standing before them, hands on hips. He wore a long coat of a deep red and stood in front of a beautiful tan and brown sleigh.

He chuckled at them as they stood there, none of the elder children believing what they were seeing, and Lucy releasing Aria with a look of complete joy on her face. She stepped forward, Aria's arm once again hanging limply at her side, and said, "Merry Christmas, sir." 

The man nodded. "It certainly is, Lucy." He said. "Since you have arrived."

Susan looked at Aria and Peter. "Look," She said. "I've put up with a lot since I got here, but this-" 

Peter jumped in, sending her a look of warning, then casting Aria's motionless figure a cautious glance. "We thought you were the Witch." He said, turning to the old man. To Father Christmas himself.

"Yes, yes." Father Christmas said, looking sheepishly at his boots for a moment. "I'm sorry about that. But, in my defense, I have been driving one of these longer than the witch." He defended, removing his brown leather gloves. 

Susan stepped forward, watching him curiously. "I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia." She said. 

Father Christmas nodded to her. "No." He said, looking pained. "Not for a long time. "But the hope that you have brought, your majesties," He told them. "Is finally starting to weaken the Witch's power. Still, I daresay, you could do with these." He then turned back his sleigh and lifted a very large sack from the back of it, laughing as he set it on the ground.

"Presents!" Lucy cried, rushing forward. 

Father Christmas removed a flask of some kind and a small knife from somewhere inside the bag. Showing her the flask, he said, "The juice of the fire flower. One drop will cure any injury." Lucy took the flask, looking curiously down at it. "And though I hope you never have to use it," He said, handing her the small knife.

She looked up at him, taking it in her opposite hand. "Thank you, sir." She said. "But, I think I could be brave enough."

The man's face was slightly grave. "I'm sure you could." He said. "But battles are ugly affairs." Lucy nodded slightly, and he smiled down at her as she stepped back, fingering her new gifts. He then drew out an ivory quiver or arrows and a bow, calling for Susan. She stepped forward, hesitating at first. "Trust in this bow," He said. "And it will not easily miss." He handed it to her.

She looked down at it, seeing her initials in silver on the beautifully carved quiver. Then, looking up at him, she asked, "What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?"

Father Christmas chuckled down at her before saying, "Though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard, blow on this," He handed her a horn with a lion's head carving. "And wherever you are, help will come." Susan took the horn as well and said a low 'thanks' before going back to stand next to Lucy. "Peter." Father Christmas said, turning back to his bag and withdrawing a sword and a shield. "The time to use these may be near at hand."

Peter came forward and took the gifts: the sword with the lion's head on its hilt, and the silver shield with a red lion's head as well. Then, watching the sword, he slid it from it's scabbard. "Thank you, sir." He said, still watching the shining blade. The sword felt good in his hand, like it had been made for it.

"These are tools." Father Christmas told them. "Not toys. Bear them well and wisely." Peter slowly sheathed the sword again and stepped back, standing next to Aria, who still had not moved. She was watching Father Christmas cautiously, but her jaw no longer hung open, which Peter took as a good sign. Father Christmas looked at her, as if noticing her presence for the first time. "Ah." He said, his features breaking into another smile. "Aria Elena Heart."

Aria's eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. Father Christmas chuckled again. "Are you really still afraid of me, my dear? I thought you got over that when you were six years old." Aria shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the man. He glanced inside his bag and then gestured for her to come forward. For a moment she still didn't move, but Lucy gave her hip a push and she took three halting steps towards Father Christmas. He watched her face for a moment before he nodded as if in understanding. "I see." Was all he said before smiling warmly at her and bending towards his bag again. When he straitened he held in his hands, of all things, a book.

"This, my dear Aria, is for you." He said, handing it to her. She took it almost mechanically. It was a beautiful tome: soft, supple red leather with a raised impression of a fighting lion in the middle of a beautiful golden outline. In the lion's upraised claw, there was an exquisitely detailed golden rose. Every corner on the border held a different design, well, all but one. The top left-hand corner held a sword, the top right-hand corner showed a horn like Susan's, and the bottom right-hand corner held a flask-like bottle. The bottom left-hand corner was conspicuously empty. 

There was also a lock on the journal, but it was unlike any lock that she had ever seen, it wasn't made for a key, but for something else entirely. Aria looked from the book to Father Christmas. "How do I open it?" She asked, her voice quiet, her fingers caressing the cover of the book unconsciously.

Father Christmas gestured to her throat. "I gave you the key many years ago, my dear. And I will have to say that it made me very proud that you decided to wear it every day."

Aria's fingers went to the spot where her necklace, a white rose that she had received in her stocking when she was ten, lay beneath her coat. She did not withdraw the pendant, but merely nodded and looked back down at the book.

Father Christmas smiled down at her. "I daresay that you'll be needing these as well." He said, handing her a small leather bag. "The quill will never dull, I promise, and the ink will never run dry."

Aria looked up at him. "So, this is a journal?" She asked. When he nodded, her brow furrowed. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

Father Christmas's smile wavered, and he looked sympathetic. "I'm afraid that you shall have to figure that out on your own, my dear." He said.

Aria sighed and lowered the journal to her side. "I don't know why I'm here." She said, and she felt her throat started to ache.

Father Christmas laid a hand on her shoulder. "But I do." He said and smiled. "I do."


	8. A Little Swim

Chapter Eight: A Little Swim

Aria's eyes widened, and she looked up at Father Christmas with renewed hope. "You do?" She asked, and the old man nodded. "Would you tell me, please?"

Now Father Christmas frowned slightly. "I'm afraid that is something that you shall have to find out for yourself my dear Aria." He said. 

Aria looked down again, her smile fading. "I was afraid you were going to say that." She said.

Father Christmas squeezed her shoulder, making her look up at him again. "But at least you know that there is a reason." He said. "And sometimes, even that can mean everything." Aria nodded and stepped back to the group, still fingering the beautiful journal. Now, Father Christmas addressed them all once more. "Now," He said, looking up at the clear blue sky. "I must be off. Winter is almost over. And things do pile up When you've been gone a hundred years." He bent down and retrieved his bag, tossing it back into his sleigh. 

He chuckled and then, turning back to the four, his face was serious and proud. "Long live Aslan." He said, climbing back into his sleigh. "And Merry Christmas!" And then he slapped his reigns and he was off through the trees to deliver the rest of the presents to his long-awaiting believers. 

"Merry Christmas!" Cried Lucy and Susan, while Peter shouted a 'Goodbye sir!". Aria merely watched him ride off, a small ghost of a smile on her lips. 

Then Lucy turned to Susan and, with a knowing smirk on her face, said, "Told you he was real." And Aria small laugh, before clearing her throat softly as Susan looked at her.

Peter was still staring off to where Father Christmas had disappeared. "He said winter was almost over." He said, his voice soft. Then he turned to the others with a look of urgency on his face. "You know what that means?" He asked, but the others simply looked at him, not understanding where he was going with this train of thought. "No more ice." 

Mr. and Mrs. Beaver let out gasps from behind them. "All right you lot!" Mr. Beaver said, his voice loud and almost panicky. "Time to get moving."

And the group set off again, this time at a far faster pace. They weren't very far from the frozen river now, but they decided not to take any chances, knowing that they would not be able to get to Aslan's camp without getting to the other side. As they hurried, Aria stuffed her new journal into her messenger bag, not noticing that Lucy had sped up to walk beside her. "What do you think it's for?" The little girl asked as the tome disappeared.

Aria shrugged. "I couldn't even begin to guess." She said. "It's not as if a blank journal is going to help anyone in a battle, if that's what this little adventure is coming to."

Peter walked with them as well. "How do you know that it's blank?" He asked.

Aria looked at him. "Well, he did give me a quill and ink. Isn't that a bit self-explanatory?"

Peter watched her, smirking. "What, you've never written in a book before?" He asked.

Aria gave a gasp of horror and heard that it was echoed from behind her. Apparently, Susan felt equally scandalized at the very thought of defacing a book. "Never." She said. 

Peter laughed. "You two sound as if I'd asked if you'd ever killed a man before, what's so horrible about writing in a book?"

Aria sighed, shaking her head at him. "You know, authors take a lot of time to write those books. I think that it's an insult to all their hard work to deface something that they made. It's like adding your own brush strokes to a great work of art."

"But it isn't as if the author is ever going to know about it." Peter reasoned.

Aria shook her head again. "It's the principle of the thing, Peter." She said. "Da Vinci would never know if you colored in some of his paintings, but it would be ruining a great piece that he took the time and effort to imagine and create. It's the same for authors." Peter chuckled at her vehemence but could see that she believed that her point was valid, and so he nodded.

They neared the river and Peter could hear the rush of water. Now, the group began to run towards the river, only to see that at the base of a great waterfall, almost all the ice had broken away, leaving what small pathway was left cracked. Peter looked at the rest of them. "We need to cross, now." He said, beginning to panic again but determined to keep it together until they were out of this mess.

Lucy turned to Mr. Beaver, her eyes fearful. "Don't beavers make dams?" She asked.

"I'm not that fast dear." Mr. Beaver said. 

Peter grabbed Lucy's hand. "Come on!" He said, starting to lead her down the steep slope to the last of the frozen river. 

Susan stepped forward. "wait!" She cried, trying to make Peter see some sort of reason. "Will you just think about this for a minute!"

Peter turned back to her. "We don't have a minute." He snapped.

Susan stepped back. "I'm just trying to be realistic." She said, sounding slightly hurt.

"No," Peter told her. "You're trying to be smart. As usual."

Aria sighed, taking Lucy's hand from Peter. "Oh, you two." She scolded, starting down the hill. "Stop this arguing and hurry up, or we'll never get across." Then she stopped as they all heard the howling of wolves. Then Susan and Peter joined Aria and Lucy as they picked up the pace. When the reached the riverbank, they could all hear the ice shifting and cracking, getting itself ready to give way completely. Aria balked slightly, clutching Lucy to her side. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." She muttered.

Peter threw her a look of annoyance, but she could see the fear in his eyes. He turned back around and stepped onto the ice. He leapt back, though, at it sank into the water below it, and aria clutched at his arm. 

"Wait." Mr. Beaver said. "Maybe I should go first."

Peter looked from him to the ice, saying, "Maybe you should."

Mr. Beaver stepped out onto the precarious ice carefully and started forward, every now and then slapping the ice in front of him with his wide tail. At one point, the ice cracked underneath him, and Mrs. Beaver chose this, of all times, to scold him nervously. "You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?" She said. 

Mr. Beaver turned back to her. "Well, you never know which meal's gonna be your last." He said, turning back to the opposite bank. "Specially with your cooking." He added as Mrs. Beaver began to follow his path along the ice. 

Now, Peter took Lucy's hand again and began to lead the group along the ice behind the two beavers; Lucy still clinging to Aria and Aria clutching Susan's hand behind her. As they stepped carefully, the ice around them began to break into small portions, each sinking a little deeper into the water beneath it as they went. Lucy shrieked as the one underneath her foot went down, and she clung all the tighter to Peter and Aria. Now they tried to move a bit faster, but it was impossible as they didn't know where the easiest, safest steps to take were. 

"If Mum knew what we were doing..." Susan said, watching the ice around them crack and splinter.

Peter turned back to her, his nerves very frayed indeed, and snapped, "Mum's not here!" And then turned right back around and kept walking. The group was almost halfway across the river when a huge chunk of ice came crashing down the frozen waterfall. Aria didn't even want to think about what would happen to them if it all came crashing down now. 

Lucy looked up to see where the ice had fallen from and suddenly yelled, "Oh no!" The rest of the children looked up as well to see the wolf pack racing along the top of the waterfall, surely going to beat them all to the other side. 

"Run!" Peter cried, and they all began to, but it was of absolutely no use. The wolves not only made it to the other bank ahead of them but leapt down the slope like flashes of brutal lightning. They stopped right in front of Mr. Beaver and the children began to bunch together tightly, Peter stopping them from moving forward and trying to make the whole group back up. This, too, proved impossible when Aria saw the larger group of wolves lining the edge of the bank they had just come from, and stopped them all from moving that way, letting go of Lucy in the process and she moved to the back of the group.

Mr. Beaver tried to fight off one of the wolves, but was knocked down immediately, Mrs. Beaver crying out a 'no' and Lucy calling for Peter to do something. 

Peter drew his sword and leveled it at the other wolf, who was advancing on the group slowly. "Put that down, buy." The wolf said. "Someone could get hurt." But it did not stop advancing on them as they all edged nearer and nearer to the edge of the ice. 

"Don't worry about me!" Mr. Beaver cried, his throat within one of the other wolves’ teeth, but still fighting. "Run him through!"

"Leave now, while you can." The wolf growled at Peter. "And your brother leaves with you." 

Susan looked at her brother. "Stop, Peter!" She cried. "Maybe we should listen to him." Peter looked at her for a second, but did not dare keep his eyes off the wolf for very long. 

The wolf chuckled. "Smart girl." It said, smiling at Susan. 

"Don't listen to him!" Mr. Beaver yelled at Peter, still trying to get free. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

Peter's sword was still raised towards the wolf, but he was shaking so that he had to use both of his hands to steady it. "Oh, come on." The wolf said. "This isn't your war. All my queen wants is for you to take you family, and this other outsider and go."

Susan, apparently believing that what the wolf had in mind was a far better idea that what Peter seemed to be thinking, rounded on him again. "Look!" She cried. "Just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero! Just drop it!" Peter looked at her again, plainly believing that the only thing standing between his family and certain death was that sword. 

"No, Peter!" Mr. Beaver yelled to him again. "Narnia needs you! Gut him while you still have a chance!"

"What's it gonna be, Son of Adam?" The wolf growled at him, still advancing menacingly. "I won't wait forever, and neither will the river!" And only now did Aria notice that the ice cycles that had been coating the waterfall were falling all around them, a certain sign that the fall was about to disintegrate as well. 

Lucy, noticing this as well, screamed at Peter, and they all watched as a great crack began forming in the center of the wall of ice, spewing freezing, gushing water. Then another crack formed, and another, all in very quick succession, and Peter began to look around him wildly, trying to find some way to save them all. 

"Hold on to me!" He cried and slammed the blade of his sword through the ice just as the rest of the wall of ice gave way to the rushing water. The three girls all grabbed handfuls of his coat and knelt with him, bracing themselves for the crash of the wall. As the water rushed over them, lifting their chunk of ice up and out, Aria could hear Susan and Lucy screaming, and the whimpering of the wolves, and the next thing that she heard was rushing water. 

The crash of the wave that the falls had sent down ripped her from Peter's back, and the only thing that she could do was try and keep what little air she had gotten and struggle for the surface. But the current kept pulling her further and further under, even as it propelled her forward. She tried to swim across the current, as she had been taught to do when she had been in that 'I want to learn to surf' faze, but it was no use, the thing was far too strong.

Finally, the current weakened and she began to swim sideways, her heavily clad limbs almost refusing to obey her. Then, suddenly, her hand touched something that was not water. She stupidly screamed, believing it to be one of the wolves, and thus releasing her entire air supply. But then she felt hands, real human hands, clutching at hers. Then, not knowing what else to do and relying only on her instincts, she dragged the other person to her and began to swim again, using only one arm and her legs.

Finally, she felt her hand smack into solid rock and she swan upward, pushing off the stone as she went. When she broke the surface, dragging whoever it was with her, she drew in a long, ragged breath before finally noticing that she held little Lucy in the crook of her arm. Still clutching the rock in front of her and kicking against the current that still tried to pull her away from it, she smiled down at the little girl. "Hi." She said, breathless.

Lucy smiled back at her, perfectly alright. "Hi!"

"Are you all right?" Aria asked her. Lucy nodded, and Aria used the last of the strength in her arm to help push her up the side of the rock. 

She then looked up as she heard Susan screaming 'What have you done!" And found, to her slight relief that Peter, Susan, and the Badgers had made it to safety as well. Then, she noticed that Peter held an empty fur coat in his hand and then looked at Lucy, who was shrugging her sweater back into its rightful place and wearing no coat at all. "Lucy!" Susan screamed, still apparently not seeing the two on the rocks behind her. 

Aria tried to answer her, but couldn't catch her breath before Lucy asked, "Has anyone seen my coat?" And began strolling towards a very relieved pair of siblings. Aria didn't listen to the rest of the conversation as she tried to pull herself up the rock. It took a few exhausting tries before she finally managed it, and then she stood shakily and made her way over to the group, gathering her sopping hair into a ponytail and trying to wring the excess water out. 

She joined them just in time to see them all staring out into the forest. Following them as they began walking, she saw that some of the trees were blooming. She stopped underneath one of them and saw delicate pink flower open right before her eyes. She blinked quickly and then began walking again, still not quite believing that any of this could really be happening. 

After a few moments, Peter dropped back to walk with her. "You're shivering." He said, not looking at her.

Aria chuckled softly. "I'm wet and there's snow everywhere." She said, "Did you think I'd be doing anything different?"

A small smile appeared on the boy’s face, but it quickly disappeared. "Thank you." He said.

Aria shrugged. "For what?" She asked.

Peter stopped walking and put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop as well. He looked down at her, his blue eyes piercing. "For Lucy." He said. "For saving her when I-" He stopped, unable to say anymore.

Aria smiled softly at him, then reached up and brushed a lock of wet hair from his forehead. "Don't worry about it." She said, her fingers lingering. "She knows that if you could have held on, you would have." Then, she added, "And she was absolutely fine, by the way. You don't need to keep an eye on her every step from now on. She's capable of a lot of things." Then, smiling up at him again, she withdrew her hand and caught up with the rest of the group.


	9. A Great King

Chapter Nine: A Great King

What followed the adventure at the river was more of what the group had had that morning. Walking, walking, and still more walking. Only now, with spring quickly on the way, so quickly that they were actually watching it happen before their very eyes, the group began feeling uncomfortable in their great coats. The snow was melting all around them, revealing lush green grass and moss beneath it. The trees quickly went from blooming to leafy green within an hour. After a while, the group decided to stop and take a rest. 

Aria did not sit, though, but merely took off her bag and stood with her arms folded across her chest. She shook her head. "I don't understand it." She murmured.

"Neither do I." Said a soft voice from beside her, and Aria turned to find Susan standing next to her with an incredulous expression that she was quite sure matched her own. "It's not possible."

Aria shook her head again, looking back out at the trees. "I've seen snow melt this fast, but it never goes strait to stuff like this." She said, gesturing. "It feels like it's the middle of spring already, not the very beginning of an end to winter." 

Susan turned to her, her face now bearing a look of resignation. "Well," She said, and Aria looked at her. "At least it won't be so cold anymore." And Aria nodded as the younger girl began to shed her fur coat. Then she just looked at it, grimacing. "I really don't want to have to carry it around, though." She said.

"Here," Peter came up behind them, holding both his and Lucy's coats. "I'm just going to put them on this branch over here. I doubt they'll hurt anything."

Susan just looked at him. "But shouldn't we at least take them back to the wardrobe?" She asked.

Peter chuckled and took the coat from her hands. "We're still in the wardrobe, aren't we?" He asked. Susan huffed slightly, but apparently had to agree, and Aria declined to point out, again, that she had not come through any wardrobe. Then, throwing Susan's coat over his arm as well, he looked at Aria.

"What?" she asked, shaking her head slightly.

Peter smiled. "Did you want to get out of your coat as well? It doesn't look as hot as these, but it is fur, isn't it?"

Aria fought a chuckle, but unzipped her jacket anyway, relieved to get out of the wet thing. "Sure it is." She said, knowing that it was really only faux. She shrugged out of it and handed it to Peter with a 'thank you'.

"Oh." He said, taking it from her.

"What?" She asked again.

Peter shook his head. "Nothing, I had just been wondering how warm you could possibly be in this." He said, gesturing to the coat in his hand. "But you had on another one, too, I see."

"Oh." She said, smiling and yanking on the lapels of the short plaid jacket she wore over a black tank top. "Yeah, well, it's pretty thin actually. I only wore it so that I could take that one off at school if I got too hot."

"Did you want me to take that one, too?" He asked her, but she shook her head.

"No, thank you. If I get too hot, I'll just put it in my bag." She said, looking down at the said object. Then she gasped when she realized that it was soaking wet. And was then surprised when the first thing that she worried about was the new journal that she had no idea what to do with. She knelt quickly and opened the bag, quickly dumping the contents out and spreading them around on the grass. It had contained some of the food that Mrs. Beaver had collected for the journey, two of her schoolbooks, three composition books, four novels, a small bag of hair ties, a bag of writing utensils, and of course the journal and the bag containing the quill and the ink. 

Now, of course, the schoolbooks were completely soaked, the composition books ruined, and the novels were completely destroyed, their ink bleeding so much that the words within the pages were impossible to decipher. She sighed, tossing them aside, thinking that at least they hadn't been her favorites. And then she picked up the journal, almost wincing in fear. But there was no need, for the journal was just as dry as it had been when Father Christmas had given it to her about an hour ago. She turned it over, stroking the leather cover and then the pages. Then she took the rose pendant in her fingers and pressed it into the lock, turning it slightly to the right. 

The locked popped open and she opened the journal, caressing the dry pages with her fingers. Then, satisfied, she closed the journal and pressed the lock back into place. Then, placing the journal down, she touched the bag containing the quill and the ink and found that it, too was completely dry. Then she stood, thinking that at least she could save the bag of hair ties, which she would desperately need if it got any hotter. The rest she would just have to leave here. 

"Is everything all right?" Peter asked her, having finished placing their things on the tree branch.

"Not everything." Aria said. "But everything that was really important, I guess."

Peter looked down at her soggy books. "I'm sorry." He said.

Aria shrugged. "It's all right. I didn't really need them anyway." She said, moving back to the group with him so that they could all grab a quick bite to eat before moving on.

When they were ready, Aria gathered her salvageable things and placed them back in her bag, which was thankfully not as wet as it had been, and they all began walking again, this time Aria walking in the back. That was when she noticed that Lucy and Susan had both shed their sweaters, and that Peter was no longer wearing his suspenders, but had rather buckled his sword at his waist and his shield on his back. Susan had her bow and arrow on her back as well, and Lucy had strapped her small dagger and the flask thing to her waist. 

This time, they didn't have that far to walk before they began hearing horns. Mr. Beaver told them that the scouts were merely announcing their arrival. Lucy hung back for a moment as the petals of a nearby blossoming tree grouped together in the wind to form a little girl in her likeness and waved to her. Aria stopped next to Lucy, staring at the creature in amazement, but then Lucy took her hand and pulled her along for a moment before releasing her. 

Then, almost as if they had planned it, the two Beavers began walking together off to the side of the siblings, who in a moment were at each other's sides. Aria, however decided to just keep to the back of the group, since she was not one of the 'foretold kings and queens'. But Peter, apparently, would have none of it, and the group slowed until she walked to his left. 

When they entered the camp, it was all Aria could do not to stop dead in her tracks and simply stare all around her. There were creatures from every fairytale she had ever heard from every fantasy novel she had ever read. Centaurs and fauns, and animals too like jaguars and dogs, and birds. There were even a few gryphons, and many things she couldn't for the life of her remember the names of. As the group walked through the canter of the camp, every single one of the creatures stopped whatever they were doing and watched the group.

A smile Susan, through her teeth, asked, "Why are they all staring at us?" And Aria had to fight the urge to pat her hair, knowing that it more than likely looked like a rat's nest.

"Maybe they think you look funny." Lucy said, smiling cheekily up at her sister. Peter and Aria couldn't help their slight laughter, but Susan lost her smile at that, and looked around at the creatures as if hoping that wasn't true. 

Mrs. Beaver, however, had had the same urge as Aria, but had not stifled it, and was busy trying to brush out her fur. "Here, stop your fussing." Mr. Beaver told her. "You look lovely."

The group soon reached the end of the camp, and stood facing a very large, very ornate red and gold tent. A Centaur stood near it, as if guarding it and, blinking, Peter drew his sword and held it forward. He swallowed nervously and said, "We have come to see Aslan." They heard the whispers immediately begin behind them but did not have long to wait for the great King of Narnia.

The curtains of the tent rustled softly in the wind, and everyone behind the four knelt in a wave. Then, slowly, a huge lion emerged from the tent and walked towards the group. Peter was the first to kneel, present his sword, tip to the ground, to the lion, and the rest of the group following him. 

"Welcome Peter, Son of Adam." The lion said, greeting the siblings in turn. "Welcome Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. And welcome to you, Beavers. You have my thanks. But where is the fourth?" He asked.

Lucy looked up at Aslan, wondering why he had not greeted Aria, as Peter stood. "That's why we're here, sir." He said, as the rest of the group rose to their feet as well. "We need your help."

"We had a little trouble along the way." Susan added, her face also confused.

"Our brother's been captured by the White Witch." Peter said, trying to explain the situation in as delicate a way as possible, whilst throwing a glance at Aria, but her face was closed as she stared mutely at the great lion.

"Captured?" The lion repeated, looking a bit alarmed. "How could this happen?"

The siblings couldn't bring themselves to tell the lion how the thing had occurred, but Mr. Beaver, noticing their dilemma, did it for them. "He betrayed them, Your Majesty." He said haltingly. The whispers behind them began again, all shocked and astounded.

The Centaur guard exploded with "Then he has betrayed us all." But Aslan gave a slight growl.

"Peace, Orius." He said, then he looked at the siblings. "I'm sure there's an explanation."

Peter looked down, but then said, "It's my fault really. I was too hard on him." Susan and Lucy both looked at him, both wanting to tell him that he was wrong. 

Susan placed her hand on his shoulder before turning to Aslan. "We all were." She said, telling this to both Peter and Aslan. 

"Sir," Lucy pleaded quietly. "He's our brother."

Aslan looked down at the little girl sadly. "I know, dear one." He said. "But that only makes the betrayal all the worse." He turned to look at Peter. "This may be harder than you think." He said. But then he shook his mane and looked at Aria for the first time. He cocked his head slightly as he studied her, and she looked down, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. "My dear Aria." He said at last. She looked up at him as he gestured towards his tent. "Join me while your friends are shown to their own tents." 

Aria glanced quickly at Peter and the girls before swallowing thickly and stepping forward, her fingers going to her rose pendant nervously. "Why can't she come with us?" Lucy asked quickly.

Aslan looked down at her, smiling. "She'll be with you shortly, dear one." He said. "But first, there are things we must discuss." And Peter and his sisters watched as Aslan led Aria into his tent, the heavy curtains shutting behind them.


	10. A Knight with a Shining Sword

Chapter Ten: A Knight with a Shining Sword

"Have a seat, my dear." The great lion told her as the curtains closed with a weighty swish.

Aria swallowed thickly, her fingers still rubbing her necklace nervously. "I'd rather stand." She said, her voice shaking slightly. "But thanks anyway."

Aslan sat down, facing her from across the large tent. His great green eyes watching her closely. "I must apologize for not greeting you before, but it was of great importance that I discovered where the fourth Pevensie child was."

Aria nodded jerkily. "It's all right." She said quickly. "I-I understand."

Aslan seemed to smile at her. "So nervous, little one." He said, his voice soft. "I'm not going to harm you." Aria could only give a tiny, nervous laugh and nod in reply. "Perhaps you would feel better if you had some refreshment?" The lion asked, but Aria shook her head, knowing that she wouldn't be able to swallow anything that was given to her.

Aslan's smile seemed to grow, and he gave a soft chuckle. "I can see this isn't getting us very far." He said, his voice tinged with amusement. Then he shook his mane and became serious once more. "I believe it is true that you do not know why you are here, correct?" He asked, and Aria nodded again in agreement. Aslan smiled again. "You, like the Pevensie children, have a great mission to perform during your stay in Narnia, though, I fear that it will not be as easy."

Aria swallowed again before speaking quietly. "What is that?" She asked.

Aslan shook his head. "That is for you to find out my dear."

Aria sighed, almost forgetting to be nervous of the huge lion in front of her. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't understand."

Aslan's smile grew. "No." He said. "You don't. Not yet. But I'm afraid that it is for you find it out for yourself. I can but guide you a little." Aria nodded, holding her breath and hoping that he could give her some useful information that could give her some tiny idea of why in the world she had been brought to a place where she wasn't need. "You will have to first find out who you are."

Aria stopped. "I'm sorry?" She asked, not understanding what he meant. She knew who she was. Aria Heart, average high school student, fair enough grades, good social life, great family. There wasn't that much to her life, but she did at least know who she was.

"If you rearrange the words of your name and find the meaning in each of them, you will find out who you are." Aslan said, his green eyes still watching her.

Aria shook her head. "I don't understand." She had absolutely no idea where he was going with this.

Aslan smiled at her and continued. "Heart should be easy, for it means exactly what it is. Aria is another word for a song, is it not? And Elena was another name for Helen of Troy, a great and tragic beauty. Now, putting your name together like that, you would get 'The Song of a Beautiful Heart', or ‘The Heart of a Beautiful Song' or 'A Beautiful Heart Song'."

"But what do those have to do with why I'm here?" Aria asked, still utterly confused.

"You must find which of those meanings belongs to you. The one that does will tell you who you are to become and what you are to do while you are in Narnia." Said the great lion.

"But, don't they all mean the same thing?" She asked, trying to smile and finding that she couldn't.

"Not at all, my dear. And that it still one more thing that you must learn. I suggest that you think on it often. Not all the time, for your help shall be needed elsewhere for the time being as well." 

"And the journal?" She asked, her other hand fingering the strap of her bag.

Aslan nodded. "Write in it every day as you would any diary. What happened that day, maybe even in the form of a story, as you are an author. Sooner or later, it will be a tool to you just as the Pevensies' are to them."

Aria shook her head. "I still don't understand." She said, her voice low. 

Aslan smiled softly at her, his eyes sympathetic. "But you will, my dear, when you need to. But now, you must help your new friends on their journey. For theirs must succeed if you are to ever find yours." 

Aria nodded again, her brow still furrowed in thought. "I'll try." She said.

Aslan nodded once more. "Good." He said, smiling warmly. "Now, why don't you join the Pevensie children as they refresh themselves. You will be sharing a tent with Susan and Lucy, and I believe there should be new garments and a nice warm meal ready for you."

Aria thank him and, not sure what else to do, bowed slightly before exiting the tent. Once outside, she found a female Centaur waiting for her. "My lady," She said. "I am Ellaera. I will take you to their Highness' tent."

Aria nodded and followed the Centaur through the camp to another, very ornate one. She thanked the Centaur and stepped inside cautiously, only to have a flash of color hurtle towards her and collide with her stomach before the curtain had even had a chance to close behind her. "Hello, Lucy." She said breathlessly, patting the little girl's back. "Missed me, did you?"

Lucy looked up at Aria, her arms still securely locked around the taller girl's waist. "I was worried about you." She said.

Aria smiled down at her and smoothed a bit of her short hair. "I'm fine." She said. "I promise." she then looked up and spotted Susan holding a bundle of green cloth. "What's I miss?" She asked.

Susan shrugged. "Nothing really." She said. "There's a stream near the camp. Lucy and I were just about to go down and wash up a bit before we changed."

"Did you want to come with us?" Lucy asked, finally letting go of Aria and picking up a pretty blue gown from the floor. Apparently, she had dropped it in her haste to greet Aria.

Aria shook her head. "I don't think so, thanks." She said. "I think I've had quite enough water for one day."

Susan smiled at her and nodded, then pointed to a wooden sofa-bed thing. "That bed's yours." She said. "And there's a gown for you as well."

Aria thank her and moved to the bed as the other two continued gathering their things. The bed itself was fairly short, but it looked very comfortable, piled as it was with cushions and blankets. And, on top of the blankets lay a very beautiful medieval-style gown. 

It was a dark, burgundy red, with a long, heavily embroidered cloth belt. The neckline of the gown, as well as cuffs at the elbows of the gown shared this gold and black embroidery. The sleeves of the gown would be tight until the elbow cuffs, and then the became loose and flowing, but they were slashed so that they wouldn't be in the way of her hands. Also on the bed was a pair of soft brown boots, an embroidered towel, a bar of soap, and a comb.

"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Lucy asked, her voice pleading for Aria to change her mind. Aria considered, pulling a handful of hair over her shoulder to examine it. It had dried completely from their little adventure in the river earlier, but it was hopelessly tangled and frizzy.

Sighing, she picked up the comb and made a vain attempt to try and ease out one of the less gnarly tangles, but even that was of no use. "All right." She said, knowing that the tangles would only ease if her hair got wet again. "I'll wash my hair, but that's about it." 

Lucy cheered as Aria set her bag down and bundled up her gown, towel, and everything else and followed the other two girls out of the tent and down a trail to the bank of a large stream. It was almost completely enclosed by large, leafy trees and the girls felt completely safe as they began their toiletries. 

The other two girls began undressing, but Aria merely shrugged out of her jacket and knelt by the water, flipping her long hair over her head and dunking it all in the water. Still upside down, she turned to see Lucy laughing at her and Susan staring with a weird look on her face.

"What?" She asked, reaching blindly for the bar of soap.

"Do girls really wear blouses like that in public?" Susan asked, her voice slightly scandalized. 

Aria, who was presently dunking the soap in the water, looked sideways at the black tank top she wore. She rose on her knees slightly, bringing her hair up out of the water in front of her and nodded. "Yes." She said. "All the time."

Susan shook her head and turned her attention to her own bath while Lucy continued to laugh at Aria. "Your face is turning red." She said, giggling. 

Aria could only nod as she concentrated on washing her hair with the bar of soap. She had never used soap in her hair before, and she could only hope that it wouldn't hurt it. "You know," She said, wincing in pain as she tried to work out the tangles as she went. "I've told myself time and time again that I was going to cut this all off, but then I never do, and it's at times like this that I really wish that I would."

Lucy gasped, apparently horrified at the idea. "But it's so long!" She exclaimed.

Aria laughed. "That was my point." She answered. "But, when I was in the third grade, it was only a little bit shorter than it is now, and I decided to cut it all off for Halloween, so that I could really be Snow White, and the second after the lady had pulled it into a ponytail and cut it off, I screamed because I wanted it back. And now I'm quite sure that that same thing will happen if I ever decide to cut it off again, so I don't."

"I saw that film!" Lucy cried. "Why, that means that your hair would have been as short as mine!" Aria nodded, and Lucy shook her head. "You shouldn't ever do that again. I like your hair just the way it is."

Aria smiled at her before dunking her hair back into the water. "I do, too." She said. "Just not when I have to wash it." Once she had worked the worst of the tangles out under the water, Aria wrung out her wet locks and bundled it up in the small white towel, rubbing at it vigorously. Leaving it in the towel for a while, so that it could soak up some of the water in her hair, she changed into the burgundy gown and soft boots as the other two girls finished up their baths.

She had never really been partial to dresses, but this one was somehow different. It was made of a very heavy, yet very soft cloth. It laced up the back with thick braided cords, but it did so in such a way that it was easy for her to accomplish it without help. Then the long belt buckled and rested comfortably on her hips. All in all, it was a very comfortable gown, and if she had to wear things like this during her stay here, then this would be all right for the moment. 

She then sat with her back against a large tree and proceeded to begin the time-consuming task of combing it out with the ornate bone-tooth comb as she looked across the stream and into the woods beyond. After a few moments, with her hair about a third of the way done, she was suddenly splashed with a fair amount of water. "Now listen, you two," She smirked. "I opted not to go for another swim today for a reason."

"Oh, come on Aria!" Lucy cried, splashing some more water the older girl's way. "You're going to get as boring as Susan!"

Aria stood up and pushed her hair behind her back. "And you're going to get that gown of yours completely soaked by the time I'm done with you!" She cried, stepping down to the streambed and sending some water in Lucy's direction. She was about to get Susan as well, but the girl had already started back up the banks to retrieve the sister's towels. 

She pulled one down, looking back to see if Lucy was following her or not, when a roaring bark met the girls. Aria looked up to see a wolf where the towel had just been. "Please don't try to run." It growled. "We're tired, and we'd prefer to kill you quickly." Aria looked around to see who 'we' meant and found another wolf stalking towards them from the right. 

She stayed still for a moment, her searching eyes taking in the wolves stalking towards them, and Susan and Lucy backing up towards the edge of the river where she was, and the bundles they had brought down to the stream with them. There was no weapon there, as the sisters had opted not to bring them, but sticking out from under Susan's old skirt was something ivory. Susan's horn. Aria then remembered the weight of the bone-toothed comb still in her hand. It wasn't very sharp, but it might buy them some time.

When the girls had backed up to her, she drew Lucy behind her back, seeing the lead wolf grin in amusement, leveling his evil yellow eyes on her. "Susan," She mumbled out the side of her mouth as the girl clutched her arm. "When I tell you to, you take Lucy, get the horn and get into the tree as fast as you can, all right?" She saw Susan open her mouth but stopped her. "Don't ask questions, just do it!" She hissed, and Susan nodded mutely.

Aria, never taking her eyes off the wolves, noticed her chance when the leader motioned for the second to stay back, probably so that he could enjoy ripping out her throat all by himself. When it came three slow steps closer to her, she yelled a 'now' to Susan and, just as the wolf began to pounce on her, she swiped at it's snout with the teeth of the comb, just as Susan threw her towel at it and she and Lucy raced for the horn.

The wolf shook its head free of the towel, it's snout bloody, and lunged for Aria just as she, too made for the tree, this time hardly caring about the height. But the wolf's teeth latched onto ankle and she fell, face-first, into the dirt. She turned, and ignoring the shooting pains in her ankle, kicked the wolf in the face with her other boot, and scrambled up, reaching down to help Lucy and boosting her up as Susan, already blowing the horn, latched onto the branch below her as well. 

The three scrambled up as far as the branches would take them, but unfortunately it wasn't as high as they would have liked it to be. The two wolves below kept snapping at Susan's dangling feet, even as Peter came charging across the stream yelling 'Get back!' to the wolves and drawing his sword.

The wolves immediately ceased snapping for Susan's feet and rounded on Peter, the lead taunting him. "Come on," He growled, the two beginning to circle the boy. "We've already been through this before. We both know you haven't got it in you!"

Susan screamed for Peter to watch out as the second wolf stalked to attacked him on his right. Then Aslan was there, stomping down on the second wolf and pinning him with a roar. And then more of the army was there as well, including Orius, who came with sword drawn and ready to attack the lead wolf, who was still stalking Peter.

"No!" Aslan ordered. "Stay your weapons. This is Peter's battle." Aria thought this was somehow highly unfair to a boy who had more than likely never used a sword in his life, but guessed that Aslan had his reasons, no matter how vague they might be. 

Peter turned back to the wolf, his sword still raised and ready. "You may think you're a king." The wolf growled, still intent on taunting Peter. "But you're gonna die like a dog!" And then he pounced, and the force of his collision with Peter made the boy crash to the ground. Aria screamed as Lucy and Susan yelled to Peter before jumping out of the tree. They scrambled towards there fallen brother as Aria sat, utterly frozen, in the tree, her fingers at her lips and her wide eyes taking in the scene below her.

The two girls rolled the dead wolf from their brother, who sat up shakily, staring at the wolf's body a moment before looking to his sisters and hugging them tightly. 

Aslan then let the second wolf go, directing the troops behind to go after it and rescue Edmund. As they left, Aslan looked at the boy. "Peter." He said. "Clean your sword." And Aria watched as the boy stood and wiped the wolf's blood from his blade on a patched of grass, leaving the blade shining once more. She gagged slightly at the sight of the blood, but quickly looked at Peter instead. "Now, take a knee." Aslan told him.

Peter, touching the tip of his clean blade to the ground, knelt before the great lion, who put his paw upon the boy's shoulder briefly. "Rise," He then said. "Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia." And Peter rose, looking at his sisters for a moment before back at Aslan, and then quickly to his sisters again.

"Where's Aria?" He asked, his voice urgent.

"I'm up here, don't worry." She called.

Peter looked up, looking relieved for a moment and then smirking. "Stuck in a tree again, are you?" He asked.

Aria narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "No." She said. "I'll be fine, I just-"

"Aria!" Lucy gasped. "You're bleeding!" And Aria stupidly looked down at her ankle, to see that blood was, indeed gushing from the bite marks the wolf had left behind. Seeing it, she began to feel a bit light headed.

Peter took a step towards the tree. "Are you sure you're all right?" He asked.

Aria nodded sluggishly. "I'm fine." She repeated. "I'm just going to faint."

Now Peter rushed to stand under her. "You'll be all right." He said. "Just take a few deep breaths. I'm going to come up and get you, just don't look at your ankle, all right?" Aria nodded and did as he said, watching as he quickly climbed up the tree to where she was. "Hello there." He said, smiling, as he reached her. she tried to smile back, but it trembled so much so that she stopped. "It's all right." He told her, pushing some of her wet hair behind her ear. "I'll get you down. If I turn around, can you get your arms around my neck?"

She nodded, knowing that even if she did slip, he wouldn't let her fall. He smiled encouragingly at her and turned his back to her. Slowly, she let go of the branch she held and laced her arms about his neck, careful not to strangle him, and once she was secure, he slowly began to climb back down the tree. It didn't take them very long, as it wasn't that tall of a tree. When they reached the ground, she let go of him, and braced herself against the tree trunk, murmuring a breathless thanks to him.

Aslan then approached them. "Let us get you back to camp, my dear little rose, so that the healers can have a look at that ankle of yours." He said, smiling at her. "Peter, would you carry her?"

Arai shook her head as Peter nodded. "Oh, no, please. I'm sure I can walk. Besides," She told Peter. "You've had quite enough for one day."

Aslan smirked. "So have you." He said. "I didn't miss that comb of yours, my dear." Aria looked over to see the ornate comb missing most of it's points, and blushed. "Besides, I won't risk a broken ankle so close before a battle. I fear that every able hand will be needed."

He began to walk away, and Peter turned to her. "It looks like you don't have any choice in the matter." He smirked and lifted her into his arms. "Besides, you don't weigh that much."

Aria just sighed, knowing that he was right. About the first part, the second part was... well... She felt her cheeks blushing again and didn't really know why.


	11. A Bad Ankle, Among Other Things

Chapter Eleven: A Bad Ankle, Among Other Things

"Well, it doesn't seem to be broken," Said the healer, a chestnut-colored male Centaur named Fircil. Peter had placed Aria on her bed, and now stood behind her head as the Centaur knelt at her side, feeling the ankle that Aria was pointedly not looking at. The healer was very careful not to touch the deep teeth marks the dotted the pale skin, but merely turned the foot this way and that, every now and then eliciting a gasp from the patient. "But it is sprained, so I suggest that you stay off it for a couple of days, My Lady."

Aria nodded and thanked him as he began to wash the blood away and then wrap the ankle in long strips of clean cloth. When he was finished, he rose and told them that he would have some food sent in for them, then bowed to Peter and left. 

Peter then assumed his position next to Aria. "Does it hurt terribly?" He asked her, gesturing to the ankle that was now propped on a soft cushion.

Aria shrugged. "I've had much worse, believe me." She told him, settling back against her pillows. 

Peter smiled. "How?"

"Well, when I was about twelve years old, I decided that I really wanted to learn how to ride a horse." She smiled and shook her head. "No, scratch that, I thought that I already knew how to ride a horse, and when my parents sent me to camp to learn, I confess that I didn't really listen to what the instructor was telling us about how to saddle the horses. I figured that it couldn't really be that hard." See blushed. "So, I had saddled the horse, much faster than any of the other girls, and I led him to the place where we were going to learn how to ride. And I mounted the horse without help, and I was sitting up there, just gloating and feeling so proud of myself, and then..." she cleared her throat. "And then I started to ride him around the paddock, at a good trot, and as soon as we came to the first turn, I felt the saddle start to slide sideways, and then when we got to the next turn, it slid sideways again, and before I knew it, the entire thing was upside down, underneath the horse. And I was still in it." She sighed. "Needless to say, I fell off pretty soon after that. I split my head open and snapped my wrist. And when I went back to camp last summer, I listened." 

Peter couldn't help his laughter. "I'm sorry." He said.

Aria shook her head again. "Don't be."

"No, I'm sorry you got hurt, not for laughing." He told her. "That's one of the funniest things I've ever heard." Aria chuckled as well for a moment before Peter became serious again. He took her hand between his and caught her gaze. "Thank you." He said.

Aria sighed, her brow furrowing slightly. "Don't start that again." She said. "I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have done if they'd have been there.

Peter shook his head fervently. "No," He said. "What you did was very brave. And there are a lot of people who would like to think that they would do something like that, but many of them wouldn't when the time came to do it. And you didn't think about what would happen to you, and you were hurt." He finished, his voice growing slightly angry.

Aria watched him, her brow still furrowed, only now it was in slight confusion. "I'm... sorry?" She asked.

Peter sighed. "No, I'm sorry." He said, one of his hands leaving hers and shoving through his golden hair. "It's just, when I saw your ankle, and knew what you had done for the girls, all I could really think about was that you got hurt, and you didn't need to."

"Peter." Aria said, leaning forward slightly and placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm not hurt that bad, and no else is hurt at all. If my little sprained ankle kept other people from the same or worse, then I'm happy to stay in bed." Then she looked away slightly. "Not for a couple of days, I don't think, but for a little while anyway." Then she looked back at Peter, smiling softly. She shook his shoulder when he didn't respond. "That was a joke, Peter, you're supposed to laugh. I'll admit that it wasn't as hilarious as the first one, but it was still pretty good as far as my standards go."

Peter forced a slight laugh and Aria sighed, withdrawing her hand. "Forced laughter, however," She added. "Is just an insult in its entirety." She looked at him, trying once again to make him smile. "Come on, Peter." She said. "I was the only one hurt today and we've been through three scares, two of them real and dangerous, and I was the only one who got hurt. And, trust me, there isn't a day that goes by when I don't do something clumsy and hurt myself, so, all-in-all, I'd say that today was a quite successful one.

Now Peter looked at her. "You don't seem that clumsy to me." He said. "In fact, I would have said that you were very graceful."

Aria fought an inexplicable urge to blush. "Oh, Peter," She said instead. "You've only known me for two days. You just wait until it's been a little longer, then you'll see." And now he did manage a chuckle, at which point she beamed at him. Then the tent flap was pulled back.

"I'm pleased to see the two of you are enjoying yourselves." Aslan said as he entered, followed by Susan and Lucy, and then three fauns carrying trays laden with food. 

Lucy immediately bypassed Peter and sat on the bed next to Aria's knees, as Susan sat on her own. "Are you feeling better?" Lucy asked her, and Aria nodded, smiling at her.

"I'm glad to hear it." Aslan told her, smiling. "I talked with Fircil and he has recommended that you stay abed for three days." He chuckled as Aria blanched silently. "But I have convinced him that, if you will agree to have some help getting around, that you may take your leave of this tent as early as tomorrow morning."

Aria smiled at him, extremely relieved. "Thank you." She said. She had not been looking forward to staying in bed and having nothing to do.

Aslan nodded. "In that case, I shall take my leave of you children." He said, moving towards the tent's entrance. "I must supervise the troops when they return." And then he was gone, the flaps on the entrance swinging closed behind him. Then the fauns, having set their trays down on the floor betweens the beds, exited as well, leaving the children to eat their meal in private.

Lucy looked at Peter, her joy at seeing Aria all right slowly turning into worry for her brother. "Do you think Edmund's all right?" She asked him.

Peter started to answer, but the worry and guilt in his own mind stopped him before any words of comfort could leave his mouth. Aria, seeing his dilemma, smiled at Lucy and grasped her hand with her free one, only now noticing that Peter's had never left hers on the bed. "Of course he is." She told the little girl. "I don't know Edmund that well, but from what I've seen of him, he's very tough. I know that he'll be just fine."

Lucy nodded, her fears mostly appeased for the time being, but Aria knew that the siblings would never really be alright until their brother had been returned to them safely. Lucy and Susan then both took seats on the floor next to each other, beginning their meal. Peter squeezed Aria's fingers and smiled appreciatively at her before dropping to the floor as well, his back leaning against the side of her low bed. It was he who filled her goblet with water and passed it up to her, as well as pieces of soft bread topped with cheeses or hot meats. 

During the meal, the siblings regaled her with tales of their world in England, in the past, and she tried to explain things about her own time to them. She found it surprisingly hard to explain the things that she had just simply grown up with, like video tapes, DVDs, cell phones, CDs, mp3 players, and the like, especially knowing as little as she did about their own time and having nothing to compare them to. So, after a while of stumbling over her words and confusing everyone involved, she simply gave up and began to simply tell stories based on movies that she had seen or books that she had read.

Of course, each of the siblings had their own interests in her stories of things yet to come. Susan wanted to know how everything she had mentioned before worked and wondering how they could have been the slightest bit possible. Lucy was ecstatic when Aria told the story of the 'Princess Diaries' film. And Peter... well, Peter was just content to listen to everything. 

The stories lasted well into the night, and Lucy was already asleep by the time Peter decided to leave for his own tent. He tucked Lucy in, kissing her hair. Then nodded to Susan, who was gathering the empty trays onto a side table. Lastly, he bid Aria goodnight, placing a hand gently on her shoulder before exiting the tent.

Soon afterwards, Susan bid Aria goodnight as well before extinguishing the lights and settling into her own bed.

\-- -- -- -- --

When Aria awoke the next morning, Susan was already re-braiding Lucy's hair. She sat up, yawning, and thought about how glad she was that the mornings were no longer freezing.

Susan looked over at her. "Good morning, Aria." She said.

Aria nodded in return, still yawning, and drew the blanket back from her ankle, prodding at it gently with one finger before judging it fine enough to start moving around. She swung her legs off the bed and made to get to her feet when Lucy stopped her. "Ah, ah, ah!" She warned. "You promised that you would have help getting around."

Aria smirked at the little girl, raising an eyebrow. "Well," She said. "You're a good height for an arm rest, how about I use you?"

Lucy giggled but shook her head. "Why don't we go and get Peter?" She asked.

Aria sighed slightly. "I don't want to burden anyone." She said. "Least of all Peter, he has enough on his mind at the moment. I'll be fine by myself." Lucy looked skeptical, so Aria added. "I promise that I won't stay on my foot too much."

She then rose to her feet, one hand clutching her headboard for a moment before she gained her balance. Susan smirked at her and stood. "Why don't I help you?" She asked, and then her face fell slightly. "After all, it is my fault that you got hurt in the first place. If I had just thrown the towel sooner."

Aria shook her head, placing her free hand on Susan's shoulder. "Throwing the towel when you did is probably the only thing that kept my throat intact." She said, smiling at the younger girl. "And I'll trade a sprained ankle over that any day."

Susan's smile grew slightly before she shook herself, wrapping one arm around Aria's waist. "It's time for breakfast." She said. "And I don't know about the two of you, but I'm starving."

"Here, here!" Lucy cried, and followed the two older girls out of the tent.

Emerging, Susan and Aria first saw Peter staring up at a tall rock above the camp. He looked at them for a moment before looking back up, the girls' eyes following his gaze. And there stood Aslan, speaking the fourth Pevensie sibling. Susan let go of Aria, going to stand near Peter.

Then Lucy started forward, yelling to Edmund, but Peter held her back, knowing that Aslan wished to speak with their brother alone. Aria watched Aslan and Edmund look towards them, then saw Aslan nod at the boy, apparently meaning that they were finished. 

When the two had made their ways down to them all, Aslan spoke to them as Edmund studied his feet. "What's done is done." The Great Lion said. "There is no need to speak to Edmund about what is past." Then Aslan stepped away from them.

Edmund looked up at his siblings, then back down. Aria saw that he looked a bit worse for the wear, with a split lip that looked very painful as well as a cut on his cheek. "Hello." He said.

Lucy smiled at him, then stepped forward eagerly to hug her brother, and Aria smiled to see that he returned it gladly. Susan then stepped forward as well also hugging him and asking if her was all right.

"I'm a little tired." He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Aria watched as Peter nodded towards his tent. "Get some sleep." He said, making no move to greet his brother. Edmund looked at him for a moment before moving to do just that, and Aria couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. Then Peter turned to him. "And Edmund," He said, smiling. "Try not to wander off."

Edmund smiled and then disappeared into the tent. Peter turned back to the girls, and now saw Aria, still standing under the awning of their tent, one hand touching one of the supports. "What are you doing out of bed?" He asked.

Aria shook her head at him. "I was promised breakfast." She said.

Peter narrowed his eyes slightly. "You promised that you would have help." He started.

Aria held up her free hand. "Susan was helping me." She said. "But the interruption was completely understandable."

Lucy then tugged on Peter's sleeve. "Oh, couldn't we wait until Edmund wakes up to have breakfast?" She pleaded. Peter smiled down at her, then shrugged and looked to Aria.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "I suppose that I can wait a few more hours." She said.

"Come on." Susan told her, taking her arm. "I'll see if I can't do something with your hair for you."

Aria laughed as the girl led her back into the tent. "Yes," She said. "That should take a good couple of hours." As Susan deposited her back on her bed, and Lucy and Peter followed them in, she fingered her hair again. She never had finished combing it out. "You might just want to let me do it." She said. "I'm sure that it'll be frustrating to no end."

Susan came back to her with her own bone comb. "Why do you let me worry about that, and you tell us all another story." She ordered as she sat next to Aria and began gently detangling her misbehaving locks.

Aria sighed, trying to rack her brain. "I'm not sure." She said, her brow furrowing in thought. "I guess I could tell you about my favorite book. It won't be published until I'm in middle school."

Lucy sat on Aria other side. "What's it about?" She asked.

"It's about girl in Ireland who had six older brothers, and one night, her wicked stepmother turns them all into swans, and she's the only one that can turn them back. It's a very long story, but she ends up being kidnapped and taken to England, where the man who kidnaps her ends up falling in love with her, only to have has uncle try her as a witch and he has to save her."

Lucy's eyes brightened, and her smile grew. "It sounds beautiful." She said.

"It's also very long." Aria warned.

"That's all right." Peter said, settling himself on Lucy's bed, his eyes watching the three of them. "If you don't finish it this morning, then that just saves more of it for the next time."

Aria smiled at him. "If you don't get too bored." She said.

Peter shook his head, smiling softly at her. "I doubt that's possible." He said.

Aria fought to hide the blush that tried to flood her cheeks and swallowed, nodding. "All right then." She said. "Once upon a time, there lived a man named Lord Colum of Sevenwaters. It's called Sevenwaters because of the seven rivers that end in a lake near the village. Lord Colum was blessed with six sons. 

"The eldest was called Liam, and he was a natural leader who was sure to follow in his father's footsteps. Next was Diarmid, who had a great passion for adventure and a contagious smile. Then there were the twins Cormack and Conor. Cormack was a fierce warrior, and Conor, who was as different from his twin as night was to day, was an avid scholar, who everyone said would one day be called away to study the ancient ways and become a druid priest.

"Then came Finbar, who was both blessed and cursed with the gift of being able to see the future, and who had grown old before his time with this knowledge that was at once great and terrible. The youngest of the sons was named Padraic, who was very compassionate, and had a great love for animals.

"But Lord Colum also had a daughter, who was the youngest of the seven, and whose name was Sorcha…" And the story went on for two more hours. With Susan combing and braiding Aria's hair, Lucy listening avidly, soon laying her head in the elder girl's lap, and Peter watching from across the room, a smile playing across his face.


	12. A Visit from the Enemy

Chapter Twelve: A Visit from The Enemy

When Edmund awoke, stating that he felt much better, a small table was placed outside the girl's tent, and trays of food were brought. This time, Peter was the sibling who kindly offered to help Aria. Of course, the offering had been more like a nonnegotiable suggestion than anything else.

She had then been deposited on a cushion between Susan and Lucy before beginning to sweetly devour the late breakfast. The only one to outdo her was Edmund, who had apparently been nearly starved during his time with the White Witch. Susan and Lucy both ate at a more normal pace, whereas Peter was a complete opposite from the other two, and ate very sparingly, having lapsed into deep thought the moment he spotted his brother again. 

For the entire first half of the meal, Lucy regaled Edmund with a summary of the first part of Aria's story, which had ended with the destruction of poor Sorcha's beloved herb garden by her evil stepmother. Before Lucy was finished with her summary, however, Peter took his goblet and stood, leaving the group to stand against a pile of extremely massive boulders.

Aria watched him carefully, keeping only half an ear on what Lucy was saying, and tapping an uneaten grape against her lips in thought.

When Lucy was finished with her tale, she watched Edmund closely as he took a couple of huge bites from his toast. Then she smiled at him. "Narnia's not going to run out of toast, Ed." She told him. Edmund then smiled back at her and chuckled slightly before finishing the bread off.

"I'm sure they'll pack you some for the journey back." Peter said, his voice signifying that his decision was already made. His siblings all turned to look at him.

"We're going home?" Susan asked, looking disappointed, which, Aria noted, was a far cry from how she had looked this time yesterday.

Peter looked at them all from where he stood. "You are." He said, pushing himself from the rock and moving back to sit with them. "I promised mum I'd keep you three safe, but it doesn't mean that I can't stay behind and help."

Lucy looked down at her plate, then back up at her eldest brother. "But they need us." She said, her voice both pleading and explaining. "All of us."

Peter sighed slightly. "Lucy, it's too dangerous." He told her. "You almost drowned. Aria was hurt. Edmund was almost killed."

Edmund was looking down, but his face looked determined. "Which is why we have to stay." He said, his voice rather quiet. Then he looked up at Peter. "I've seen what the White Witch can do, and I've helped her do it. And we can't leave these people to suffer for it."

Aria couldn't help but smile at the boy as Lucy took his hand in hers and noticed that Peter couldn't either. Whatever the third Pevensie sibling had been through during his time with the Witch, he had grown from it.

Susan then sighed, looking distant. "Well," She said. "I suppose that's it, then." And then she stood, beginning to walk back to the girl's tent.

Peter turned to her. "Where are you going?" He asked her. 

Susan picked up her bow and quiver, then turned back to him with a sarcastic smirk on her face. "To get in some practice." She said, and then walked away, more than likely towards the target range on the opposite side of the camp.

"You know," Aria said, dropping her grape back onto the plate in front of her. "That's not a bad idea." And she began to push herself away from the small table as well.

But Peter, apparently, had other ideas. "And where do you think you're going?" He asked her.

Aria furrowed her brow. "Well," She said. "I guess to see a guy about a sword."

Peter smirked at her. "Not today you're not." He told her.

Aria sighed and heard Lucy giggle next to her. "Come on, Peter." She said. "I need all of the practice I can get."

Peter shook his head. "Not today." He said. "Today, you're going to keep off that foot." His then stood and moved towards his tent. Once he reached it, he turned and smiled at her again. "Today, though, you can watch." 

Aria sighed, and Lucy patted her forearm. "Just be happy that he's not arguing with you." She said, smiling up at the older girl.

Aria smirked down at her. "I'm older than he is." She reminded her. "He just knows that he'd lose." Then she nodded, looking away slightly. "Smart boy, actually."

"Actually," Edmund told her, grinning despite his split lip and standing as well. "We're over sixty years older than you are." And then he left the two remaining girls to follow Peter.

Aria's smile dropped and didn't miss how the little girl's smile did the exact opposite.

\-- -- -- -- --

The day was almost half over, and Aria felt that she had done absolutely nothing productive. This was mostly true due to the fact that she had, indeed acquired possession of a sword and had been allowed to sit in on Peter and Edmund's lesson with Oreius. 'Sit', of course, being the operative word, for Peter had made certain that she sat on a low, cushioned stool with her bandaged ankle propped on a large pillow. And that was how she sat for three hours whilst the two Pevensie brothers learned how to balance themselves, how to fight with only a sword, with a sword and a shield, and on horseback, all the while fingering the hilt of her new sword and listening with extra care.

Now, Oreius, the Centaur General, had decided to send the boys out on their mounts, Edmunds a chestnut stallion and Peter's a beautiful white unicorn, so that they could practice for themselves. After having been instructed to circle the camp three times, and s they were about to ride off to do so, Peter stopped in front of Aria. Out of breath, he told her, "Why don't you go and check to see how Susan and Lucy are doing?"

But Aria shook her head, smiling at him. "I'm perfectly comfortable right here, thank you." She told him.

Peter frowned. "Promise me you won't move from this spot?" His voice made it sound as if it were not a question.

"I won't go anywhere." Aria said, shaking her head slightly. Peter frowned again but left it at that as Edmund called for him. He rounded the unicorn and dashed after his brother.

As soon as they were out of sight, though, Aria smiled and pushed herself to her feet, watching carefully to make sure that Peter did not double back any time soon. "Are you ready for a bit of instruction yourself, My Lady?" And Aria jumped slightly in surprise. The General, who was surprising quiet on his feet - no, wait, hooves - was now standing right next to her.

She looked up at him and her smile grew. "Really?" She asked. "I was planning on begging you."

Oreius smiled down at her. "As the Great Aslan has said, we will need every able pair of arms." He told her, his voice gentle. "And you seem to be a very determined young girl."

Aria nodded. "I am." She said, then sighed. "But I'm afraid I won't be able to do too very much today. As much as I hate to admit it, my ankle does hurt. A bit." She added. "A very, very little bit."

The centaur's smile grew. "I understand." He said, his voice now slightly amused. "I'm afraid that what His Highness doesn't seem to understand is that the battle could begin at any moment, whether that ankle of yours has healed enough or not, and you should know what to do if it hasn't."

"Exactly what I thought." Aria said, removing the shining sword from it's scabbard and setting the latter on the pillow. Then she smiled. "Shall we get started?" She tried to take a step forward and winced as she came down on her injured foot a bit too heavily.

Oreius placed a large hand on her shoulder. "Balance should be first, I think." He then tapped her uninjured leg with his sword. "If your other foot will not bear your weight, you shall need to have this foot in front of the other at all times, with your knees bent slightly. Now, hopefully, you will never be unseated from your horse, and you will never be in this predicament, but you realize that we must make certain. at Aria's nod he continued. "Now, the more of the sole of your foot you have on the ground, the greater your strength will be when you attack. Normally, it is far better for it to be both of your feet, so you shall have to try until you feel balance enough to swing with toppling yourself over or giving your injury away."

Aria looked up. "What's so bad about that?" She asked. Oreius raised an eyebrow and suddenly tapped her injured ankle with the flat of his sword. Aria inhaled sharply at the shooting pain, and then nodded. "Point taken."

"On to your upper body for a moment. You don't seem to have any trouble keeping your back straight, but you need to remember to keep your chest and torso forward, this will help to keep you from losing your balance and will also allow you to twist away from some blows. Another very important thing to know is to keep yourself relaxed. The more tense your muscles are, the slower they are to respond, which could very easily prove to fatal." Oreius then moved so that he was positioned in front of her. "Now," He said. "Swing at me."

Aria swallowed, then lifted her sword with both hands and swung sharply from right to left, the resulting clang against Oreius' blade jarring her bones. "That would have been very good had you not closed your eyes." Oreius told her. 

The offending appendages immediately snapped open and Aria could not help but blush. "Sorry." She said, not having noticed.

"You did not fall over, which is a very good sign." Oreius smiled, and Aria thought that maybe, finally, those ballet lessons awhile back had not been a complete waste of time. Oreius was about to say more when an extremely frazzled faun cantered into the practice ring.

"General Oreius!" He cried. "The Great Aslan has requested your presence! The White Witch is on her way here demanding a meeting." 

Oreius turned hurriedly to Aria, telling her to sheathe her sword. she bent quickly, retrieving the scabbard and slipped her blade back into it. "You may ride with me, My Lady." He told her, offering his hand. "It will be quicker that way." Aria took his proffered hand and he swung her onto his back, breaking into a gallop back to Aslan's tent. "I shall have to speak with those in charge of your armor, My Lady." He said over his shoulder. "You will be in great need of some leggings if you are stay on a horse properly." He was, of course, alluding to her side-saddle position, which was a far cry from secure.

"That would be wonderful." She said, only now wondering how in the world she would have fought anybody wearing a floor-length dress. "Thank you."

The reached Aslan's tent a short time later and Oreius helped her down from his back. Aria could see that word of the White Witch's demand had already spread through the camp for the troops were gathering around the tent-lined path. Aria looked to Aslan, who already stood before his tent, ready and waiting for the Witch. The Great Lion motioned for her to stand back with a grouping of fauns just as she heard a rather annoying voice begin shouting.

"Jadis! The Queen of Narnia!" It was saying, and everyone around her was shouting back at him. "Empress of the Lone Islands!" It continued, and now the Pevensie's joined the crowd, all racing from the target range. Lucy was the first to reach Aria, immediately slipping her small hand into the older girl's, but she was shortly joined by the rest of them as they all looked down the path to see the Witch, sitting proudly on a throne and carried by four Cyclops' and followed by at least four minotaurs.

Aslan stepped forward as the Cyclops' lowered the throne to the ground, the Witch standing up as they did so. Aria could feel the tension between the two as the paused, staring at each other before the White Witch, Jadis, whatever her name was, stepped forward, her piercing eyes finding Edmund in the crowd for a moment before looking back to the Great Lion. She stopped and spoke rather softly. "You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

There were murmurs and gasps throughout the crowd and Aria could not help but place a comforting hand on the boy's arm. "His offense was not against you." Aslan stated.

The witch watched him. "Have you forgotten the laws on which Narnia was written?" She asked, but Aslan fiercely belted a roaring growl.

"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch." He warned. "I was there when it was written."

The Witch paused for a moment, and Aria barely stopped herself from cringing at those evil, frozen eyes. "Then," She said slowly. "You'll remember well, that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

Aria's eyes were drawn to Peter as he drew his sword, pointing it towards the Witch. "Try and take him then." He said, his eyes narrowed, and Aria inhaled sharply. Oreius had also drawn his sword and Aria could see that one of the ferocious-looking minotaurs had raised his axe as well.

The Witch slid those eyes to Peter. "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right?" She asked, then her eyes swept him up and down, measuring him. "Little king?"

Aria felt the blood fill her cheeks as she watched Peter look lost for a moment before lowering the blade, clearly wanting to do something to help his brother, but no longer knowing how.

But the Witch was continuing. "Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the laws demands," She then turned to the crowd, raising her voice to have the most effect she could. "All of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water." As gasps of terror swept through the crowd once more, she turned to Edmund, pointing cruelly. "That boy will die on the Stone Table." And now Aria's hand slid from Ed's arm and into his, even as he looked to a helpless Peter. "As is tradition." She added, lowering her hand. Then she turned back to Aslan. "You dare not refuse me." And this was both a statement and a threat.

"Enough." Aslan said as everyone looked to him again. He then lowered his voice. "I will talk with you alone." And with that he turned and went back into his tent. The Witch tilted her chin back with something akin to triumph and followed him.

And then they waited, silent. A minute passed, then five, then ten, and no one had moved. After a few more, the troops began to shift with restlessness. Another minute passed, and Peter turned to her, his eyes still a bit dull. "You shouldn't be standing, Aria." He said.

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She told him. "Really. Don't worry about me." But his eyes pleaded with her, so she sighed softly before releasing Edmund and Lucy's hands and carefully taking a seat, her injured foot stretched out in front of her, still slightly throbbing from Oreius' blow. Lucy then sat across from her and Susan knelt beside her as Aria's fingers nervously went to her necklace. A moment later, Edmund took a seat next to Lucy and Peter was the only one left standing, his eyes alternating between his brother and Aslan's tent. After a while, though, Aria soon tired of him looming over them all, so she reached out and touched his boot.

"You can't do anything right now." She said, her voice low and her eyes capturing his. "So there's no use tearing yourself to pieces over it." She then looked pointedly at the ground beneath him before releasing him.

Then, with a reluctant sigh, he, too, collapsed next to her, and she couldn’t help but notice how his hands were clenched together in his lap.

Another twenty minutes passed before there was a rustle at the entrance to Aslan's tent. This was apparently notice by most of the camp, for many of those who had taken a seat clamored to their feet, Peter included. Then, the White Witch appeared at the tent flaps, throwing them aside and stepping out as the others joined Peter on their feet. The Witch walked forward slowly, staring at Edmund.

And then, she looked away, walking past the children as Aslan appeared as well. Once she had made it to her 'throne', everyone turned to the Great Lion expectantly. Aslan stared at Edmund as well for a moment as the whole group held their breaths. Then he turned to the crowd. "She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood." He announced, and there were immediate murmurs of relief and triumph.

Then, the Witch spoke. "How do I know your promise will be kept?" she asked, standing regally as the applause around her died.

Aslan roared ferociously, and the Witch immediately took a seat. Those around Aria could not help but laugh and cheer at this, and she herself felt a bit better that the Witch could be cowed.

Then, as the Witch was carried away, her minotaurs and dwarf following her out of the camp, the siblings rounded on their brother, all overjoyed that he was safe. Lucy only just managed to hug Edmund first before they were all swarmed by well-wishers, none of them getting much of a word in edge-wise.

After a few moments, Aria felt a small hand slip into hers, and looked down to find Lucy staring towards the swinging flaps of Aslan's tent, before she, too, was congratulated.


	13. A Prelude to War

Chapter Thirteen: A Prelude to War

After the excitement had died down, the camp immediately went back to the preparations for the coming battle, almost as if the visit from the witch never took place. Aria, however, was more than a little concerned with Lucy's behavior after congratulating her brother. She had meant to speak to her as soon as the crowd around the siblings had diminished, but the little girl had slipped away during the commotion.

Fully intent on finding her, she turned from Edmund and ran straight into a hard chest. 

"I think I finally see what you mean about being clumsy." Peter told her, smiling and catching her shoulders so she wouldn't stumble. 

Aria was pleased to see that the smile reached his eyes now and smiled back at him. "I told you so." she said. "But you wouldn't believe me."

Peter chuckled. "So," He said. "How did your sword practice go?"

"Fine." Aria said. "Oreius says that-" She stopped and frowned. "How did you know about that?"

His smile grew and now seemed somewhat smug. "I have three younger siblings." He said. "I have a sixth sense about when one of them is doing something they aren't supposed to."

Aria was still frowning. "I never told you that I wouldn't practice." She said. "I only said that I wouldn’t leave the practice yard."

Peter nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Yes," He said. "Tricky. I'll have to watch out for that in the future, I guess."

Now Aria chuckled at him. "I guess so." She said, then she became serious, laying a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?" She asked him.

Peter now became serious as well, looking over her shoulder at his brother and sighing. "I think I will be once this whole mess is over with." He said, then shook his head. "That was awful." 

Aria squeezed his arm. "I know." She said. "I could tell." Then she shuddered. "And what she said to you- That was just uncalled for."

Peter offered her a smile. "Thank you." He said, then he frowned. "When she said that, when I realized that I couldn't do anything -" He stopped and looked away from her. "I don't like feeling helpless." He said. 

"No one does." Aria told him. Then she laid a hand on his cheek and turned him to face her again. "But you weren't." She said. "Not completely. We would have figured something out." Then she smiled. "And apparently we should trust in Aslan. He seems to have all our best interests at heart. Don't worry." She said. "You aren't alone. And you're not helpless." Then she chuckled, adding, "And you aren't that little, either."

This made Peter chuckle as well before he smiled down at her again. "How do you always know what to say?" He asked.

Aria shrugged. "I don't know." She said. "Maybe it's years of having a hysterical and boy-crazy best friend."

Peter laughed again and hugged her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing his cheek to her hair. "Thank you." He said and held her for a moment.

Aria stood there, wrapped in his arms, her own around his waist, and couldn't help but smile. She had always been a 'hugger' and she had many guy friends back at home whom she hugged all the time, but none of them had ever held her like this, and she had to admit that it felt nice - more than nice even. She also had to admit that Peter Pevensie smelled wonderful. Not like any of the guys back home. He wasn't wearing gobs of cologne or that disgusting Axe body spray or whatever, but he smelled like grass and even a bit like the almonds they had eaten at brunch. 

After a moment, Peter stepped back and cleared his throat slightly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. "So," He said. "I expect you want to get back to practicing, right?"

"Of course she does." Came a voice from behind Aria, and she turned to see Oreius standing there, her sword in his hand. "But we have a few things to take care of before that, don't we, My Lady?" Aria nodded and then smiled back at Peter, who shook his head at her.

"Well apparently I can't stop you." He said. "Besides, Edmund and I should probably get back to it as well." He patted shoulder and nodded to Oreius as he went back to Edmund.

"Where to first Oreius?" Aria asked, taking her sword when he offered it to her.

"First to see about your armor, My Lady." He said, smiling at her. "And then a Horse, I think, and I know of just the right one."

\-- -- -- -- --

After they had made a rather-longer-than-necessary stop at the armory tent, Oreius took Aria to the paddock where all the horses were being kept. Well, all the horses being Peter's and Edmund's absent mounts. And apparently one for her, although she couldn't see it.

Once Oreius had helped her from his back, insisting that she shouldn't tax her ankle any more than she had to, Aria stepped towards the paddock.

"Not out here, My Lady." Oreius said, stepping to a very large - larger even than Aslan's - tent and pulling aside the flap. Aria preceded him in, and saw makeshift stalls made of rope and cloth lining the sides of the tent. Only one stall was occupied at the very back of the tent, and this, of course, was the stall Oreius began leading her to.

"Now," He said. "I must warn you about Lorin. He is not a normal Horse by any means. Lorin is a kelpie."

Aria stopped. "Wait." She said. "I read about Kelpies. Aren't they demons? And don't they just take the form of a horse when they want to drown people?"

Oreius watched her. "Kelpies are always horses." He told her. "They are never anything else, at least, not in Narnia. But you are right, they do usually drown those who they trick into mounting them."

"Hm." Aria said, still not taking another step forward. "And you want me to ride him why exactly?"

Oreius smiled down at her. "Lorin is not of the same mindset as his fellows." He explained. "He is the only one of his kind that I have come across who believes so, but he feels ashamed that his kind find pleasure in taking lives." Aria nodded, looking towards the horse as Oreius continued. "And I want you to ride him in battle because the same gift that gives his fellows the power to secure a rider to their back as it drowns them may also help you to remain in the saddle longer."

Aria nodded again and the two began to move towards the horse once more. Now Aria could see how truly magnificent he was. He was tall, easily seventeen hands, and as black as night with a long ebony mane and tail, and his coat was so shiny that it looked as if he was soaking wet.

Oreius stepped towards him. "Lorin," He said. "I would like for you to meet the Lady Aria Heart. I wish that you would allow her to ride you during the battle." Aria stepped forward, unsure how to handle being formally introduced to a demon horse who apparently could talk. 

The horse, Lorin, moved his great black head to look at her with his matching eyes and immediately tossed his mane, giving off a whinny that sounded like an ecstatic sigh. "Oh Oreius," He said, and Aria had to remind herself that a talking horse was apparently normal here, and to remind herself that she had already decided that this was not a dream, but Lorin was continuing. "You didn't tell me she would be so utterly beautiful." He said. 

Aria blushed and could not believe that a horse was gushing over her. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She said, nodding to him.

Lorin made the same sighing sound again. "Oh, she is lovely." He cried.

Oreius frowned slightly. "Lorin." He said, his voice having a slightly warning tone to it. "You are becoming hysterical."

Lorin snorted. "How can you not be, standing beside such a devastating beauty? And here I thought only unicorns were destined to know lovely maidens, but here I have the loveliest of them all!"

Oreius' brow furrowed and he placed his hand on Aria's arm, drawing her back a step. "Perhaps this was not such a good idea." He muttered.

Lorin heard him and his head drooped. "You're going to take her away from me now?" He asked. "I know why you would like to. I am, after all, supposed to want to kill her." He sighed again, this time sounding heartbroken. "But you don't understand, it would be a travesty to kill such a beauty as the Lady Aria, to extinguish such vibrancy would make Narnia a dim world indeed." He then raised his head to Aria, a warning look in his eyes. "That is not to say, my Heart, that you should trust any other of my kind. For they would relish taking you down to the depths of their homes to be with them forever."

Aria smiled slightly at the Kelpie. "I promise that I won't." She assured him. Then she turned to Oreius. "I'm sure that Lorin will be a wonderful solution."

Oreius harrumphed slightly, his eyes still slightly narrowed at the horse, but after a few moments he finally nodded. "But I warn you, Lorin." He said.

Lorin bobbed his head up and down. "Of course, Oreius." He said, and Aria could swear she saw him smile. "No funny business, I assure you." He then turned to Aria. "No, my dear Heart," He said. "Would you prefer a saddle or no?"

Aria bit her lip. "I'm afraid that I've never ridden a horse bareback before." She said. "But if you would be more comfortable-"

But Lorin shook his mane forcibly. "Oh, no, no, no." He said. "My greatest comfort comes from your comfort. A saddle it is! My dear Oreius, if you could but fetch one for us..." Oreius harrumphed again and unhooked the rope barrier enclosing Lorin in his stall before stalking off to do just that, muttering about how Horses should learn how to do things for themselves.

Lorin stepped forward slowly, giving Aria enough time to take a careful step backwards, minding her injured ankle, which was beginning to throb again. She tilted her head as she studied the Kelpie. "Now, let me see if I have this right." She said and waited for Lorin to nod to her before continuing. "You're going to use your - magic - to make it impossible for me to be unhorsed in the battle?"

Lorin made a motion with his head that was not quite a nod. "That is the hope that Oreius and I have, my dear Heart." He said and seemed to smile down at her. 

Aria nodded, and automatically reached up to stroke his velvety neck. "Thank you, Lorin." She said. "That will certainly give me some peace of mind." Not to mention hopefully keeping Peter from worrying incessantly. 

Then Oreius appeared again and dropped a saddle onto Lorin's back with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary. "Now," He said, his voice very firm indeed. "You will remember to be careful with her, won't you?"

Lorin adopted an affronted look after his initial flinch from the drop of the saddle. "I would sooner be turned to stone than to cause harm to such a beauteous creature as my Heart." He said, and Aria shook her head, unable to help the small smile that came to her lips as she began tightening the girth and securing the saddle to Lorin's back. Oreius harrumphed again as he slid the hackamore bridle onto Lorin's nose and over his ears. He said nothing, just shot Aria an exasperated look of caution and motioned for her to mount. She checked the girth again, having learned from her past mistakes, then began to hike up her skirts.

Lorin nickered and tossed his head. "Oh no, My Heart!" He cried. "You mustn't put any weight on your ankle. Here," He then bent his legs, laying down so that she had only to swing her leg over the saddle.

"You really are beginning to make far too much of this." Aria pointed out as she did so.

The horse merely tossed his head again, slapping her leg gently with his ebony mane, and stood easily. "For you, my Heart, nothing is too much."

"Yes, yes." Oreius snapped, handing Aria the reigns and stalking forward. "Now, if you're quite finished proclaiming your adulation of the Lady Aria, perhaps you wouldn't mind if we got started with a few exercises in the paddock." He then exited the stable tent and slapped the flaps closed behind him.

"Touchy." Remarked Lorin as he began to step towards the exit as well.

Aria sighed slightly, then smiled down at Lorin. "You know," She started, as much as I'm flattered by everything that you've said, Lorin, perhaps, for Oreius' sake, you might tone it down a bit. For now." She added. "After all, it's already been a very long day, and his nerves but be nearly shot by now."

Lorin shook his mane again. "I really have no idea what you are saying, my Heart." He said. "But if you mean that I should keep more of my praise for you to myself in front of that grump, then I shall most readily oblige you."

Aria fought to refrain from chuckling as she nodded. "That is exactly what I meant." She said. "Thank you very much." The two then exited the tent to find Oreius already impatiently waiting for them inside the paddock.

When they reached him, he immediately began pacing in front of them. "First," He said. "I suggest that we test the strength of your magic." And at this his voice was somewhere between a mock and a lightly veiled sneer. 'Then we shall move on to the sword fighting. If that's all right with you, of course, My Lady." He added, smiling slightly at Aria.

Aria smiled back at him, beginning to think that this was going to be a very long afternoon. "I'm happy with anything you suggest." She said.

Oreius nodded and then turned back to Lorin. "All right, then." He began. "Let's started with rearing and go from there. Do you think you can handle that?" This time, Aria nearly rolled her eyes and wished in vain that it was time for dinner.

Lorin, however, did roll his eyes before, without warning, rearing up on his hind legs. Aria gasped in alarm and dropped the reigns, certain that she was about to be deposited heavily on the grass behind the horse, but, of course, that did not happen. She looked down at Oreius in bewilderment, knowing from having been in this same position before that she should not still be in the saddle. But, there she was, and the amazing this was that she didn't feel anything keeping her on Lorin's back. There was no sensation of her legs having been 'glued' to his sides, nothing like an invisible seat belt, nothing at all. "Well," She said, scratching her forehead as Lorin dropped onto all four legs once more. "That was certainly an experience."

Lorin snickered. "My dear Heart," He said. "That was nothing."

\-- -- -- -- --

The sun had begun to disappear behind the trees before Oreius declared that Aria was ready for the upcoming battle. Actually, it was much more that he finally became tired of putting Lorin through his paces, and subsequently taking Aria right along with him. Finally, though, the day of training was over, and a sweaty, tired, and very hungry Aria was finally allowed to slip from Lorin's back.

"It was a pleasure meeting you today, my dear Heart." He said, as he made his way back towards the stable tent, where Peter and Edmund's horses had retired about and hour ago. "I pray that I shall see you again very, very soon." He then stopped and turned to her before kneeling on one of his forelegs in a deep bow, then turning and disappearing into the tent.

Aria sighed, smiling, then turned to Oreius who stood staring after the Kelpie and shaking his head. She placed a hand lightly on one of his crossed arms. "Don't worry." She said, smiling up at him. "I trust him. So should you." He sighed harshly before she added, "Besides, it was your idea."

Oreius merely harrumphed for what seemed like the thousandth time before giving her a hand up onto his back and making his way towards the center of camp once again.

Once there, he deposited her in front of her tent before bidding her a good night and moving off deeper into the camp. Aria shook her head, smiling softly after him, before turning and entering the tent slowly, wishing suddenly for a long, hot bath.

"Finally!" She heard a sweet voice greet her and looked up to find the four Pevensie's waiting for her with trays of food. "We were beginning to worry that you would be gone forever!" Lucy added, smiling brilliantly up at Aria and patting a large cushion between she and Susan.

As Aria joined the four, placing her sword on the floor and stretching her injured foot onto a smaller cushion someone had provided, Susan placed a plate in front of her. "We made sure that everyone waited for you." She said, shooting an amused glance at Edmund, who had dug into his own food the minute Aria had limped into the tent.

Aria chuckled. "Thank you." She said, rubbing gingerly at her ankle and reaching for a piece of bread. "But ya'll didn't have to wait for me."

Susan merely shrugged and smiled softly at her while Lucy cried, "Of course we did! You still have to tell us more about Sorcha!"

Aria laughed, acknowledging that of course she did as Peter reasoned, "Let her have a bit to eat first, Lu. She hasn't had anything since breakfast."

"Didn't stay on that cushion very long, did you?" Edmund remarked, grinning at her from across the trays of food.

Aria shook her head. "Well," She said. "I could let ya'll have all the fun, now could I? Besides," She added, smiling impishly at him. "I could probably beat you any day, bad ankle or no bad ankle."

"Could not!" Edmund defended, tossing a grape at her and grinning all the wider.

The dinner went on this way, all five children joking with each other about this and that, and when the food on the trays was gone, Edmund and Aria fighting over the last piece of cheese covered bread (And Peter somehow winning), Aria acquiesced to Lucy's polite demands for more of her favorite novel for an hour before, after her tenth yawn, Peter declared that it was time for them all to get some much-needed rest. Then the brothers left them, Peter kissing each of his sisters and patting Aria's shoulder, and Edmund ruffling Lucy's hair and tugging none-too-gently on Aria's long braid.

Once the girls had settled down and Susan had put out the lights, it was not ten minutes before Aria was soundly asleep. So deeply, in fact, that she was not aware of Lucy's tossing and turning, nor did she hear the little girl calling out to her sister and the two leaving the tent, pausing only for the briefest of moments to acknowledge that she was nowhere near awake enough to come with them.

She was, however, nearly awakened when a dark figure shook her gently by the shoulder. "I won't miss the bus, I promise, just give me a few more minutes."

She heard the tiniest of chuckles before a voice that was most definitely not her mother's spoke, a hand shaking her shoulder once again. "Wake up, Aria, please. It's urgent."

Aria opened her eyes, sitting up and squinting at the figure in the darkness, quickly becoming awake at the severity of his tone. "Peter?" She asked and made out a nod. "What's wrong?"

Peter took her by the shoulders gently, sitting closer to her on the bed. "We've just had a message from Susan and Lu." He said, his voice very grave. "They left awhile ago, with Aslan." He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly. "Apparently, Aslan sacrificed himself in Edmund's place."

Aria blinked and shook her head slightly. "Wh-what?" She asked, the word coming out as a breath.

Peter swallowed. "Aslan - is dead." He said.

Aria looked away, her breaths coming in silent gasps as she tried to process what she was hearing. Aslan couldn't be dead. He was the only reason they were all here. He was the only one who knew what they were supposed to do. How were they supposed to fight a battle without him? How were they supposed to save Narnia without him? Then her eyes snapped to Peter, who was still watching her, and her fingers clutched at the sleeves of his tunic. "Susan and Lucy." She gasped. "Are they-"

Peter shook his head quickly. "They're fine." He assured her. "They weren't seen. After Aslan - after it happened, they sent word to us about what was going on, and about how the Witch was coming straight here from the Stone Table." His fingers squeezed her shoulders again. "That's why I needed you to get up." He said. "We need to make a plan quickly, and I'd like for you to be there."

Aria nodded. "Of course." She said. "Yes, of course, whatever you need, Peter."

Peter smiled at her, and although it was strained, she could tell that it was genuine. "Thank you." He said, hugging her to him again briefly before standing and helping her to her feet.


	14. A Battle Fit for Legends

Chapter Fourteen: A Battle Fit for Legends

"Are you sure that you're up for this?" Peter asked as he pulled on his gloves. His right one was covered with small steel plates whereas his left one was bare. "I mean, with your ankle and everything. You could stay with Edmund, you know."

"Right." Aria said, tugging at her long mail sleeves before tugging at her braid to make sure that it was fastened tightly enough. "And what good would I be to anyone up there? You know that I can't shoot a bow and arrow to save my life."

She saw Peter wince slightly at her choice of words. "Could you not say that today, please?" He asked. "It's bad enough that you're going to be fighting at all with that ankle of yours, and then you go and insist on being in the front lines."

Aria shrugged, pulling on her own pair of brown leather gloves, neither of which had plates on them. "I figured that I wouldn't be so afraid if I could see exactly what was coming at me." She explained. 

Peter watched her closely for a moment before shaking his head slightly and taking on of her newly gloved hands in his. "Just promise me that you'll be careful." He said, his eyes pleading with her. "And that if I tell you to get out, you will."

Aria looked up into his kind eyes and couldn’t help a soft smile spreading over her lips. No one, saving her father of course, had ever thought about her safety before, and, as annoying as it was bound to get, it sort of felt nice at the moment. She was about to answer his when the two heard Oreius trotting up to them with Lorin and Peter's unicorn in tow. The beautiful white creature was walking as far away from Aria's new friend as he possibly could, clearly not wanting anything to do with him.

when the trio came to a halt, Lorin's eyes immediately went to Peter and Aria's clasped hands and narrowed considerably. "Good morning." He said, his voice having a very suspicious tone to it. "I don't believe we've met before." He directed to Peter.

Oreius sighed slightly and tugged on Lorin's reigns. "This is King Peter." He said, a warning note in his voice. "Your Majesty, may I introduce Lorin, the Lady Aria's mount."

Lorin rolled his eyes and bowed his head slightly to Peter, muttering a 'Pleasure to meet you' before turning to Aria and yanking his reigns from Oreius's grasp. "My dear Heart!" He gushed, his voice much more exited, and then bowed deeply. "How are you this lovely morning?"

Aria bit her lip, fighting to hold back laughter before taking a deep breath. "Very well, thank you Lorin." She said, removing her hand from Peter's slowly.

Oreius sighed again, clearly exasperated, and snatched up Lorin's reigns again. "The two will be waiting you when you are ready, Your Majesty, My Lady." He told them, and then pulled the two mounts away. Once they were out of earshot, Aria could not help her chuckles.

Peter tilted his head, staring after the Kelpie. "Do you know," He said. "For some reason, I don't think your horse likes me."

Aria gasped. "What tipped you off?" She asked. "Was it the glaring or the utter dismissal?"

Peter blinked, shrugging. "Bit of both, actually." He said. Then he turned to her again, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You promise me that you'll be careful?" He asked, becoming serious again.

Aria smiled up at him, her hand moving to brush his hair off his forehead again. "As much as I can." She said. "I promise."

Peter sighed, nodding and looking off into the distance. "I wish that Aslan were here." He said.

"Listen to me." Aria ordered gently and waited until she had his full attention again. "You can do this." She said. "It's a good strategy, and these people trust you to lead them." She smiled again. "I trust you. You just need to trust yourself."

Peter nodded. "How can you be so right all the time?" He asked, smiling at her.

Aria shrugged. "It's exhausting, really." She said, shaking her head. "You people really need to get up some self esteem or else I'm just going to quit."

Peter chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. "Come on." He said. "Let's go win a medieval battle, shall we?"

"Oh, yes, let's." Aria said, and the two began moving towards Oreius, both trying to hold onto this last moment of frivolity before things became deadly serious.

\-- -- -- -- --

Aria and Lorin stood in between two Centaurs, behind the front line of Animals, waiting for the White Witch's army to arrive. Aria watched Peter's back several yards in front of her and he and Oreius stood together in front of the entire army. Every now and again, she would check behind her up to where Edmund was stationed with the archers, just to reassure herself that they were there. Now that everything was coming down to the wire, she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to be here.

It felt almost like the first time she had ridden a roller coaster. It had been just great until she was strapped in, sitting next to a smiling Nicole. The rise had begun to move, and her knees had begun to shake, her chest and fingers tightening steadily, her adrenaline beginning to pump quickly through her veins. And then the car reached the peak and just slightly began its initial drop. That was what this moment felt like. Like she wished she had stuck with the kiddie roller coaster (like playing Zelda on her Wii at home in her pajamas) rather than the Superman ride (like getting ready to actually try to hack something else to death before it had the chance to do the same to her, and actually asking to have been in the front lines, of all places!) What had she been thinking?

Her fingers clutched at Lorin's reigns, itching to clasp her necklace between them, but unable to do so as it was hidden beneath her many layers of armor and mail and who knew what else. Actually, what she really wanted to do right now was ride up to Peter, tell him that she was very sorry, and then ride back to camp and curl up beneath her blankets and pray that she woke up at home in her bed. She would never complain about having to go to school so early again, she promised. 

"You are beginning to tremble, my dear Heart." Lorin told her. "Are you sure that you are all right?"

Aria nodded jerkily. "F-Fine." She said. "Kind of wishing that this was all over and done with." Then she took a deep breath and glanced at all the Centaurs and Fauns around her. "But I'll be alright." She stated, nodding again telling herself just to keep breathing. These people were fighting for their right to be free of tyranny. If she didn't at least try to help them, then she couldn't very well call herself an American, could she? If her forefathers had fought their way out from under King George, she could certainly raise a hand, or sword as it were, to help these long-suffering creatures out from under the thumb of the self-proclaimed Queen of Narnia.

She just hoped that she wouldn't be slaughtered trying.

Suddenly, there was a screeching cry from above, and Aria looked up to see their scout, a large and handsome gryphon soaring towards them. He circled the army once before coming to rest on a boulder next to Peter. Aria could not hear what he was saying to the boy, but she could guess. The Witch's army was very close now. She kept one eye on Peter and she looked out across the grassy plain, hoping to catch a glimpse of just how large an army they were talking about here. 

Then, Aria heard a distant horn blow, and watched as a tiny speck suddenly became a very large, black minotaur, obviously the Witch's General. He stopped on a grouping of boulders across the plain, and then yelled savagely, raising his axe with both hands, signaling the rest of his troops. And, as they came forward, Aria could not help the slackness of her jaw as her eyes took in the huge army before her. There were giants, trolls, dwarves, bears, tigers, ogres, Cyclopes, werewolves and regular wolves, and who knew what else. 

Then came the White Witch herself, riding in a golden chariot pulled by two huge polar bears. Atop her hair she wore a headdress in the shape of a stag head, and around her neck hung lion fur in the shape of a mane. Aria could more than guess just how the Witch had come to possess that, and if she hadn't been brought up in the South, she would have spit in disgust. How dare the woman flaunt such a thing?

Aria looked away from the Witch, her eyes taking in the whole of the opposing army, and she could not help but gulp down the bit of bile that was rising in her throat. Again, this was quickly turning into a roller coaster ride that she wanted to get off. But then Peter caught her eye. He had turned in his saddle and was looking up at his brother. Aria turned to look, too, and saw Edmund nod slightly in acceptance, and when Aria looked back down, Peter was staring at her, his eyes asking for her approval as well.

Aria swallowed again, but smiled, and tried to look as relaxed and confident as she possibly could. Peter then turned back around, seemed to take a breath, and then drew his sword. As he raised it high, their own horns sounded from atop the cliffs, and all the soldiers around Aria drew their weapons and gave out fierce battle cries. Aria might have joined them had her fingers and jaw not been clenched so tightly. 

Then, Aria heard the Witch's army give off their own, responding, cries, and watched as a large grouping of them began to surge forward. Seeing this as well, those around her slowly grew silent, watching Peter and waiting with bated breath. As they drew closer and closer, Aria found her eyes flitting from them to Peter, silently urging him to give the signal. Just when she felt that she really would throw up from the tension, Peter dropped his sword, signaling the aerial troops.

Aria had to admit that his plan had been rather ingenious, using the birds and gryphons as 'airplanes' and large boulders as 'bombs', just like what he had his siblings had lived through in London. She spared them only a glance, though, and could see the exact moment when the enemy figured out what was going on. They had caught on quicker than Aria had thought that they would, but it had still been a few seconds too late. The dropped boulders stopped a good many of the approaching force before the archers started getting a few choice shots off.

She took a deep breath when she heard the lead gryphon's cry of retreat, knowing that the first drop of the ride was quickly approaching her, and knowing that it was far too late to beg out. Her eyes went to Peter as the aerial forces veered off their courses and watched as he turned to Oreius for a moment before turning back.

She said a little prayer in the back of her mind as he cried, "For Narnia! And for Aslan!" his unicorn rearing up.

When he came back down, he and Oreius immediately started racing forward to meet the still oncoming troops. "Here we go, dear Heart!" Lorin cried, not sounding nearly as nervous as Aria might have liked, and he, too, lunged forward with the soldiers around them. As they rode, only a pace or two behind the first line of spear-holding Centaurs, Aria drew her sword, part of her mind running over everything that Oreius had told her the day before as the rest of it focused on breathing in and out.

It seemed like they rode on and on, the Witch's army getting closer and closer, for an eternity before she noticed the Centaurs lowering the points of their spears, getting ready for a swiftly approaching crash. And then, it came. The cheetahs running ahead slammed into opposing white tigers, the Centaurs met minotaurs and Cyclopes head on. 

And Aria, as Oreius had drilled into her, forgot about the soldiers next to her completely, didn't look to where Peter or any of the others were, and focused only on what came at her with a weapon raised. First came a leering Cyclops with a large axe, and Aria knew that she needed to strike at him, but she was too slow. The blade came towards her thigh, glinting in the sunlight, but Lorin, watching from the corner of his eye, pivoted on his front hooves and crashed into the Cyclops' side, sending the beast sprawling before stepping on him in a place that make a sickening crunch.

"Come, dear Heart." Lorin said, his tone slightly scolding. "You cannot freeze now." Aria swallowed, not daring to look down at the unmoving Cyclops. "On your right!" Lorin then cried, and Aria swiped at whatever it was, feeling her sword connect with a metallic clang. She turned her head just in time to duck as the brown minotaur's axe came swinging at her again. And, when she looked up this time, something inside her head clicked.

It wasn't bravery, not even close, but more like the feeling that every living creature on the planet has felt at one point in it's life. It was the need to fight to protect herself. Now, it wasn't about helping Narnian's, it wasn't a computer gamers’ wish to fight for real, it was survival, pure and simple. She didn't have to think about Oreius' words, she simply struck, her eyes searching for openings, watching for times when she needed to block with her shield or to duck. But, again, it wasn't until Lorin reared and struck out with his hooves, stunning the minotaur, that she could get a handle on the huge beast. When it fell back, reeling from a hoof to it's head, Aria thrust her sword at it, feeling it sink deep into it's neck just above it's chest armor.

Luckily, she did not have time to look at the blade of her sword when she wrenched it out of the minotaur's neck, Lorin warning her at the last moment about another Cyclops nearing her. She actually cut this one down fairly quickly, her muscles finally getting into the groove of things, and bringing the sharp edge of her sword down into it's skull. Again, she did not look at the blade of her sword as she turned, just in time to duck as a werewolf lunged for her throat. But this time, she stabbed upwards with her sword, using the werewolf’s momentum to swing it over herself and Lorin, and dropping it down on her other side.

When she pulled her arm up this time, she could feel the twinge as her muscles protested all this heavier-than-it-looked activity. Now, she heard a rather musical bird call, and looked up briefly to see a gorgeous phoenix sailing towards them. For a moment, she could not draw her eyes away, especially when it began to burst into flames, diving towards the ground in between the Witch's army and their own, leaving a trail of fire in it's wake before it disappeared completely. 

Aria did not have time to gloat over this small victory, however, as another minotaur, this time with black fur, charged at her, axe raised. She brought her shield up just in time, but her forearm certainly would have a nasty bruise tomorrow. Again, Lorin pivoted and kicked out at the minotaur, but it merely backed up and sidestepped out of the way, swinging again and forcing Lorin back onto all fours. Aria sliced down and Lorin lunged forward again, and the bones of her arm jarred viciously when her blade connected with the axe. Again, she tried, grunting with effort, and again, her arm was jolted. 

Aria wanted to kick him, as she had seen happen in hundreds of movies, but knew that with her ankle as it was, that it would do more harm to her than it would to this beast. And so, she sliced again, this time going the opposite way, and felt her blade bite into the minotaur's shoulder. It gave off a growling cry of pain and chopped at her again with the axe, this time almost catching her injured leg, but Lorin turned away only just in time. By now, Aria's arm was throbbing, of its own accord, and it took almost everything in her to lift her sword again, bringing it down heavily where it only slightly grazed the minotaur's snout.

It was then that she heard Peter yelling for them to fall back to the rocks, most likely to get the Witch's army within reach of the archers, but at the moment Aria couldn't care any less. Lorin, however, seemed more than happy with this new course of action, and kicked out at the minotaur, one hoof catching it in the face, before he wheeled around and began to gallop back for the rocks. As they reached them, Aria held onto Lorin's reigns with one hand as she tried very hard not to drop her sword in exhaustion. They were almost within range of the archers when she heard the scream of a horse behind her.

She pulled Lorin to a halt and turned back to see Peter's unicorn go down, Peter flying from it's back. As the unicorn regained its feet, two figures flew past Aria, and she watched as Oreius and a gigantic Rhino galloped towards the Witch's oncoming army, clearly intent on stopping them from reaching Peter, and heard him yell for them to stop.

Then she watched, horrified, as the rhino fell first, Oreius leaping over it's body and taking on the huge minotaur general. It clung to his flank as he rushed past it, and it contorted his upper body around to stab to minotaur before drawing his last sword and making his way straight for the White Witch herself. He leapt over her chariot, slashing at the Witch and barely missing before she turned and stabbed at him with her wand, turning him into stone right before Aria's eyes.

That was the last she could see of their own General, however, before yet another axe came flying at her, and again she only just could bring her shield up in time, hearing the metal crack under the effort. Looking down, she saw another Cyclops swinging at her again, and, ignoring her throbbing arm as best she could, sunk her blade deep into it's unprotected neck. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw another minotaur coming at her from the other side and swerved its blade as she tried to wrench her sword from the Cyclops' neck. But it was stuck fast and, even as it fell, the Cyclops took her blade with it, dragging her arm down as well.

She tried as best she could, from this extremely awkward position, to keep the minotaur's axe at bay with her already cracked shield, and at the same time kept trying to wrench her sword from the Cyclops’s body. Only when Lorin reared was the sword finally released with a sickening squelching noise, and as the minotaur's axe came down this time, it was the Kelpie who gave off a cry of pain. Aria parried another of the axe blows as she took a quick look at Lorin's injury, only able to make out a slight cut on his ebony shoulder. She then grit her teeth and kicked at the minotaur with her good leg, sending it reeling back before slicing at it's head, barely looking to see if it came back. 

Somehow, during all of this, she had gotten ahead of Peter, and only slightly heard him yelling at Edmund before Lorin turned slightly and there she was. The White Witch stood before Aria, her horrible cold eyes staring up at her, clearing marking her as the next target. Lorin fidgeted under her as Aria swallowed thickly, her eyes never leaving the Witch. Jadis began circling Aria, Lorin making sure that she never got too close.

Aria saw it in the Witch's face when she made her first move, striking not with her wand, but with the sword, and going straight for Aria's injured ankle. Aria stopped the blade just in time but did not see the wand being twisted up over Jadis' head and pointed straight at her. But Lorin had been watching the wand rather than the Witch who carried it, and as soon as it had found it's target, he reared up as far as he could possibly go, and let Aria loose from his back, sending her sprawling behind a slight outcropping of rocks just as he was turned to stone.

Before Aria could even look up, there was yet another axe swinging in her direction. She almost brought her shield arm up to stop it but realized at the last moment that her shield had flown from her grasp, and rolled out of the way instead, feeling a searing pain from her elbow to her wrist as the axe blade grazed her raised arm. Not stopping, she looked at her attacker, and, of course, it would have to be the same black minotaur she had been at a stalemate with earlier. Dark blood poured from it's snout and there was an evil glint in it's eyes as it swung at her again.

This time, when she rolled away, she got to her feet as quickly as she could, keeping as much weight from her injured ankle as possible. She held her sword with both hands now, her muscles thankful that she had no more shield to worry about where her brain was definitely not. As another swing came at her, she blocked, before taking a slice of her own, trying to aim low for the minotaur's unprotected legs, and finding herself completely off-balance. As she was trying to regain it, the minotaur swung at her again, and she only just managed to block him, her sword loose in her hands. The next thing she knew, it was flying off the her right somewhere as she went down again.

Without shield nor sword, she could only look up at the gruesome minotaur and think, 'This is not going to end well.'. He lifted the axe, grinning victoriously, and brought it down. Aria shut her eyes, waiting for the blow to come, but instead heard metal clang above her. She opened one eyelid to see that a sword had stopped the axe about six inches above her face. Opening the other, she looked up to see Peter standing above her, scowling at the minotaur.

She took only a split second to marvel at this, however, before rolling out of the way in search of her sword, hearing still more clangs of metal as she went. Aria had just grasped the hilt of it when suddenly, she saw a flash of blue light out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, only just regaining her feet, to heard Peter screaming, and saw Edmund fall, stabbed by the remnants of the Witch's wand. Wrenching her eyes back to Peter, she watched as he stabbed the minotaur a final time before he went after the Witch, but, again, did not have the luxury of time to dwell on any of this.

This time it was a wolf, not a werewolf, but one who could probably talk. It lunged for her, but she simply cut it down, far more worried about Peter and Edmund than anything else at the moment. She heard Peter grunting with effort not ten feet from her but didn't dare look towards him as yet another minotaur lunged towards her. She blocked his axe, very careful this time not to lose her balance, but knowing that she couldn't do much more than block his attacks.

She blocked him twice more before becoming fed up with this little setup, and lunged, yelling when she felt the pain in her ankle, but knowing that it was worth it when she felt her blade sinking into the minotaur's gut. She then pulled back, yanking her sword with her before she heard a roar. She twisted around, fully expecting another minotaur to be attacking her, but instead saw, high on the cliffs, stood Aslan himself. Then she watched as Susan and Lucy and hundreds of others came rushing into sight.

Before she could tear her eyes away from this, however, she saw out of the corner of her eye, another lunging minotaur, this time a brown one, and only just managed to stop it from hacking off her leg. Again, purposefully forgetting about her injured ankle, she stabbed at the minotaur, missing the first time, and then curving her sword under it's axe and pushing it away before sending the blade home and hearing not just it's cry of pain, but Peter's as well.

Yanking her sword out of the dead - or dying, whichever suited it best - minotaur, she turned to see him on the ground, one of the Witch's swords sunk deep into his sword arm. She watched as the Witch tried to bring her other sword down on him, Peter blocking with his shield, before she hooked the shield with her sword, knocking it away and nearly thrusting it down at the helpless Peter again. Then, there was a huge tan flash at Aria's side and, suddenly, the Witch was yards away, Aslan on top of her. And Aria looked away, swallowing thickly, as Aslan's jaws gave a roaring lunge for her head.

The White Witch probably deserved whatever the Great Lion had just done to her, but that did not mean that Aria wanted to watch it.

She looked around her, past the new soldiers rushing past and saw Lorin, still rearing precariously on stone legs, and made her way slowly to him, her injured leg screaming its protestations, and her hand shakingly sheathing her sword. when she reached the stone Kelpie, she felt tears sting her eyes as she stared up at him, not daring to touch him lest he fall over and shatter. She felt a presence next to her, and her hands went for her sword again before she saw who it was.

Aslan stood next to her, his large eyes staring up at Lorin, too. "How are you, my little Rose?" He asked, not looking at her.

Aria sighed, crossing her arms. "Honestly?" She said, looking back up at Lorin. "I don't know yet." Aslan nodded, and then breathed heavily on Lorin, and Aria watched as the stone began to disappear. When it was completely gone, Lorin again fell to all fours, shaking out his mane fervently.

"Oh, thank goodness!" He cried. "I was starting to get a terrible crick in my back." Then he looked over at Aria and Aslan and shook his mane again, bowing reverently. "Thank you, My Lord." He said.

Aslan smiled slightly. "You are welcome, Lorin." He said. "Now, I suggest that you two come with me."

Aria nodded, and took hold of Lorin reigns, shaking her head at his quiet offer to carry her, and instead choosing simply to lean heavily against his side as they walked next to Aslan. Soon, they came upon the four Pevensies, all hugging each other, and Aria was delighted to see that Edmund was in the midst of them, perfectly all right. She watched as Lucy took up her cordial and, along with Aslan, began making rounds to all the wounded soldiers. 

It was then that Susan turned back to her, standing and walking towards her. "Are you all right?" she asked when she reached her.

Aria nodded, feeling her knees shaking beneath her. "Yeah." She said. "I will be. I just need to, maybe, sit down I think."

Susan smiled at her, taking her uninjured arm. "Come over here." She offered. "I don't think we'll be moving for a little while." And then she led Aria, limping, over to Edmund and Peter. The first thing she did, after sitting down, of course, was to hug Edmund tightly.

"Whoa!" He said, squeezing her back a little awkwardly. "You weren't scared for me, too, were you?"

Aria pulled back and swatted his shoulder lightly. "Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear?" She ordered him, and then joined in the other three's laughter.


	15. A Chance to Talk

Chapter Fifteen: A Chance to Talk

It was much later in the evening on that same day before Aria got a chance to speak with Peter. 

As soon as the troops had returned to the camp, the many wounded, including the eldest Pevensie and herself, had been shuffled off into their separate tents to be patched up and fussed over. Thankfully, Mrs. Beaver had been in put in charge of Aria. She had bandaged Aria's arm, which had received a seven-inch-long gash from the Minotaur’s axe.

It hadn't been very deep, thanks mostly to her chain mail sleeves, but it was cut enough to burn whenever she moved it, and the tips of it, right at her wrist and her inner-elbow, were in danger of bleeding if she moved her arm from its sling. Mrs. Beaver had also put together a cold compress for her swollen ankle and had informed her that she had sprained it yet again, and that there might even be a slight fracture in the bone.

Thanks to this, she had given Aria express orders that she was not to move from her bed until Aslan had made arrangements for the entire camp to be moved to Cair Paravel. Aria, however, planned on staying abed only so long as her ankle was throbbing, and, as soon as it stopped, she fully intended on making her way to the boy's tent, where all the Pevensie's had gathered. 

What she had not planned on, was how bored she became once Mrs. Beaver had left her. She sat there, on her bed, her left arm in a sling and her right foot propped up on a cushion, with no one to talk to, and not a single book to read. After about five minutes of this, she would have killed for her math book. She would have gone to sleep, had her ankle not been throbbing so. Instead, having changed back into her gown, she drew her fingers around the patterns inside of her sleeves. 

Then, growing bored of that, she tried to braid bits of her newly-washed hair without moving her injured arm. Needless to say, she got about as far as parting a bit of it into three pieces before her wrist started to bleed again. Sighing, she pressed it against her stomach and reached down for the basket of cloth strips that Mrs. Beaver had left for just such a reason. And then her fingers brushed up against her denim shoulder bag.

Still keeping pressure on her wrist, she leaned over the side of her bed slightly and pulled the bag open, revealing its sparse contents. The bag of hair ties that she and Lucy and Susan had been using, a small leather pouch filled with quills and ink, and the journal that Father Christmas (For it was rather hard to think of him as Santa Claus now) had given her.

As soon as her fingers touched it's smooth, dark red cover, her fingers began to itch with a familiar urge. She wanted to write. Forgetting all about her bleeding wrist, for it was stopping now anyway, since she was holding it still, she plucked the journal from her bag and placed it in her lap, reaching back down and taking out the pouch as well. 

It was a bit awkward for a moment there, as she bent her torso over in order to unlock the journal with her necklace one-handed. Then, she removed a small glass bottle of what seemed to be a dark green ink from the pouch and placed it in the fingers of her injured arm. She then placed the journal in her lap and tucked the front flap under her injured elbow before removing one of the light calligraphy-type pens from the pouch and dropping the thing back into her messenger bag. 

The writing was slow-going at first, as it always is, but once she got into the groove of it, the words just kept coming. She wrote about meeting the Pevensies in the woods, and Lucy inviting her to come along with them and meet Mr. Tumnus. She described what followed afterwards, arriving at the ransacked hut and meeting Mr. Beaver. She jotted down the tidbits she remembered about the Beaver's dam, or rather, what she had noticed in her bewildered state of mind at the time.

She wrote about Edmund's desertion, describing her theory about how the late Witch must have gotten to the poor boy before Lucy's friend, turning him to her way of thinking and making him believe that she was the force of good in Narnia, and that Mr. Tumnus and others like him were merely rebels without cause. She wrote about everyone's hopes that Aslan would have all the answers that they needed, having only just entered this world that seemed to be full of turmoil, and their hopes that he could help them.

She wrote about meeting Father Christmas, about the gifts that he had given them all, and described her confusion over receiving this journal, which, at the moment, was wonderful to have, but she still didn't have the faintest idea how she was supposed to use it to find her 'purpose' here in Narnia. She wrote about how, somewhere along the rather treacherous journey to Aslan's camp, she had become friends with Peter, Susan, and Lucy, and now looked upon them, if not as the siblings she had never had, than definitely the best friends she could remember, and that included Nicole.

She expressed the wonder she had felt when she had first seen the many different creatures that made up Aslan's army, and how that wonder grew once she had met some of them and talked with them. She recounted how Aslan had greeted the Pevensie's, skipping over her until he had learned of the missing Edmund's whereabouts. She then wrote of his advice to her, how he had told her to write in this journal, and how doing so would help her to understand why she was here.

She admitted the fact that she thought that this was utterly silly, but, in light of ultimate boredom, she was willing to go ahead and give it a try. Adding that there was also the fact that she didn't know what else to do in order to find it out.

She then wrote about the incident with the wolf, Maugrim, wincing a bit as her ankle throbbed again with the memory. She then smiled as she remembered Peter coming to their aid, looking so determined to defeat the wolf, but at the same time so scared that he wouldn't be able to.

She then wrote about seeing Edmund again, and how he had changed so much from the last time she had seen him. He was no longer the surly and petulant boy he had once been. Whatever had happened to him whilst he had been in the White Witch's 'care' had certainly altered his attitude for the better. And she wrote about how fond she was becoming of him, almost as if he were her younger brother as well, and then scoffing as she detailed how he would love to tease her about the fact that he, technically, was older than she was.

She explained about how, against Peter's better judgment, Oreius had taught her how to fight with her bad ankle, knowing somehow that she would never have just sat back and watched as others went into battle. And then detailed meeting Lorin and apologizing, in this little way, for thinking ill of him for being a kind of demon before she had even gotten to know him.

She then recounted the events of today, marveling at the fact that she hadn't run away at the first available moment (or at the first sight of blood). She detailed Peter and Edmund's bravery, as well as all the other soldier's, Oreius and that poor Rhino in particular. She shook her head and smiled as she recalled how Peter had saved her from that Minotaur.

She stopped writing, picturing it again in her mind. Looking up and seeing Peter there, without his helmet, but his armor still gleaming silver, his tunic still a bright red, his blonde hair falling slightly into his eyes. Those same beautiful eyes glaring so fiercely at the threatening Minotaur, his sword the only thing between Aria's head and the sharp edge of the looming axe. Thinking back on it now, she felt something swell in her chest. Something that she could not name, but something that nonetheless brought a soft smile to her face.

She put her pen down slowly, letting the cover of the journal fall out from under her elbow. She locked the journal and dropped it back into her messenger bag, capping the ink and doing the same to it. She then flipped the blanket from her legs, swinging them over the side of the bed and testing her injured ankle carefully. It didn't feel as good as it had this morning, before the battle, but that was to be expected. It didn't feel as bad as it had immediately following the battle, either, which she took as a good sign. 

Gingerly, she got to her feet, careful not to put too much weight on her ankle, and also to keep her arm pressed against her abdomen. Slowly, she made her way to the tent flap and exited, determined to make the short journey over to Edmund and Peter's tent and join her new friends.

As soon as she had stepped outside, however, she stopped. Peter was there, sitting in the grass right in between the two tents and staring off into the distance. The late afternoon sunlight glinted off his golden hair and she could see that his arm, too was in a sling. She watched him for a moment, silently leaning up against one of the thin tent poles.

Apparently, though, he either had the eyes of a hawk or she had not been silent enough. "What are you doing out of bed?" He asked, glancing over at her and smirking slightly. 

Aria smiled. "I could probably ask you the same question." She said, her eyes looking pointedly at his arm. 

Peter shrugged. "I wanted to get away from people for a little while." He said, looking back off into the distance.

"I'm sorry." Aria said. "I was just going to go see everyone. I won't be out here much longer."

Peter's eyes came back to her quickly. "No." He said his brow furrowing. "You're fine. I just meant that they're all talking, and I really just wanted some quiet time. You're welcome to stay out here with me, if you'd like." He then smiled and patted the spot next to him on the ground. "You can even talk if you want to."

Aria chuckled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, and wondering for a split second how it had gotten that way. "Well," She said, slowly limping towards him. "With Your Majesty's permission."

Peter groaned lightly as she sat down next to him. "Not you, too." He said, leaning back slightly on his hands.

"You can't be sick and tired of it already." Aria said, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You're going to be crowned King at some point, so I think you'd just better get used to it."

Peter sighed. "I wonder if I'll ever be able to go back to being just Peter." He said.

Aria shook her head. "You've never been just Peter." She said. "There's never been anything just about you." Then she stopped, blushing slightly and wondering what on earth had possessed her to say some thing like that. Peter was silent as well, and she could feel his eyes studying her face. After a moment of somewhat awkward silence, she licked her lips and glanced at him. 'I um..." She started, clearing her throat lightly. "I wanted to- to say thank you."

Peter shook his head. "What for?" He asked, and she could have sworn that she felt him lean a little bit closer to her.

She glanced at him again but could find no evidence of this. "F-for saving my life." She said. "From that minotaur." 

Peter smiled. "There's no need to thank me." He said. "I just did what anyone else would have done."

Aria put a pensive look on her face. "Hmm." She said. "Now, where have I heard that before?"

Peter laughed, and then nodded. "All right." He said. "I see your point." And, just like that, the slight tension between the two of them was gone, even as Peter turned serious again. "I hope that you weren't offended when no one came to get you." He said, his eyes studying her face once more. "Lucy wanted you to come over and tell us some more of your story, but Susan thought that you might be taking a nap. I should have come to check on you earlier."

"Don't worry about it." Aria said, shaking her head. "I kept myself occupied. And it gave my ankle some time to stop swelling."

Peter grimaced, his eyes going to the aforementioned limb. "Is it worse now?" He asked, his voice concerned. 

Aria shrugged. "It's worse than it was this morning." She said. "But not any more so than when I got it the first time around." Then she shook her head again. "But," She added. "It couldn't be helped so it's really just a moot point by now."

Peter shook his head. "An injury isn't really something that ever becomes a moot point." He argued gently.

Aria silently 'hmphed' before saying, "Speaking of injuries, how's your arm?"

Peter glanced down at it, lifting it slightly in its sling. "It took a few stitches." He said. "And I'll have a bit of a scar, but it'll be fine so long as it's kept clean." He then looked at her matching ornament, nodding at it. "And yours?"

"No stitches yet." She said. "Mrs. Beaver said she'd send Fircil to come and look at it before I went to bed for the night, just to make sure. The deepest places still bleed if I move my arm too much." Aria watched Peter nod, looking a little grim before asking, "How's Edmund?"

Peter smiled. "He's fine. Perfect, really. Lucy's cordial really did the trick. He doesn't even have a scratch." Then he laughed a little. "Even the cuts on his face have healed."

Aria chuckled and looked away from him again, watching the sun making its slow descent behind an outcropping of rocks. "Maybe you and I should commandeer a couple of drops." She said. "You know, since we probably look absolutely pitiful."

Peter scoffed jokingly. "Speak for yourself." He said, laughing. Aria bumped his shoulder with hers gently, careful not to shift his arm too much. "I'm kidding." He added quickly, and then he sobered. "Normally," He said. "I would agree with you, but I'm not entirely sure that the juice works unless you're extremely ill or injured."

Aria nodded. "And I'd hate to waste a drop of it on a bum leg and a little scratch." She added. "Especially if it ended up not working."

"So," Peter summed. "We scratch that idea?"

"I suppose so." Aria agreed, sucking her teeth shortly and shaking her head. "But, then of course we have another problem."

Peter laughed. "And what might that be?" He asked. "As if we didn't have enough of them already."

"Well," Aria said, glancing at him again. "How in the world are we going to occupy ourselves, given that we won't be allowed to tax our injuries any further? I mean, it's not as if there are any more battles to fight with a bum leg, you know?"

"Thank goodness for that." Peter mumbled, then turned to her. "The only solution is to go back inside so that you can tell us more about the unfortunate Sorcha."

Aria groaned theatrically. "Aren't you all tired of that story yet? You know that it's not even a fourth of the way finished?"

Peter shrugged. "What can I say? You're a very good storyteller. And I am rather interested in how that poor girl is going to fare making six shirts out of a thorny flower."

Aria nodded, leaning back on her good forearm and stretching her injured ankle out in front of her. "Very slowly." She answered, thinking about which parts of the story she would omit for certain delicate ears.

Peter seemed to understand that she no longer wanted to go in and see everyone just yet, so he lay down next to her, his golden head pillowed on his good arm. After a few moments of comfortable silence, the two of the watching the sun get closer and closer to the horizon, he once again spoke. "So," He said, his eyes moving from the horizon to Aria's cascading hair. "You miss the bus a lot, do you?"

Aria glanced back at him, her expression bemused. "Where on earth did you hear that?" She asked.

Peter shrugged, wondering why his fingers suddenly had an itch to twist one of her curls around them. "This morning." He said. "When I woke you up. You were promising me that you wouldn't miss the bus."

Aria laughed, the sound lilting prettily from her throat. "Oh," She said. "Well, yes, now that you mention it. I do miss the bus more often than not. But when your homework takes you until half past midnight to finish, and then you have to make it to the bus stop by half past six in the morning, I wouldn't be a normal high school teenager if I didn't miss the bus."

"Then how do get to school?" Peter asked her.

Aria shrugged, careful not to move her injured arm. "Either my mom or my dad take me." She said. "Usually my dad."

"Do you miss them?" Peter asked, his eyes moving from her hair to study her face.

It turned distant for a moment, and a little sad, and wished that he hadn't brought it up at all. "When I think about it." She said. "I mean, I've been on overnight field trips for school, and week-long summer camps away from them, so I try to just think of this as the same thing." She looked down. "But they aren't just a phone call away this time, so it's a little scary." Aria then looked down at him. "But I guess I shouldn't be complaining." She said, smiling at him sympathetically. "You've had it a lot harder than this, haven't you? With not being able to talk to your parents." She added.

Peter nodded, his eyes still watching her. "We haven't heard from our dad in months." He told her. "He's fighting in the war, you know."

Aria shook her head. "I'm sorry." She said, her eyes shining with compassion. "Do you have any idea where?"

Peter nodded again. "In France." He said, but then shook his head. "But that's really as much as we know." He looked away from her. "And, now that London is being bombed, we were shipped off to the country for protection, and we can't contact out mother."

"No working phone lines?" Aria asked.

Peter shook his head. "And no working post either." He said. "Not going into London or coming out."

"I'm so sorry." Aria breathed, lying down now as well, her eyes on his upturned face. "I can't imagine how hard that must be." She shook her head. "Especially with you being the man of the house while your father's absent."

Peter nodded, sighing. "Especially when I'm trying to keep up with those three." He said.

Aria smiled. "You know," She said. "I always wished I had siblings. Being an only child can get a bit lonesome."

Peter scoffed lightly. "I should think it would be grand not to be pestered all the time."

Aria looked at him. "Yes," She said. "But think of never being pestered. Never having anyone to play games with, never having anyone look up to you, never having anyone to fight with."

"Never getting to be by yourself." Peter countered, turning to look at her as well.

"Always having to be by yourself." Aria argued. "Not having a choice in the matter."

"I don't usually have a choice in the matter." Peter said.

"Yes, you do." Aria scolded lightly. "You were out here all by yourself not twenty minutes ago."

"Yeah," Peter smiled. "Until you came along."

"Well," Aria smiled. "I'm not your sister, am I?"

Peter inhaled heavily. "I don't know." He said. "These past few days have made that matter seem to be a bit debatable." He watched a bit of surprise come to her face and smiled at her. "I think you have a few more siblings than you'll be able to handle now." He told her. "Besides," He added, looking up at the sky once more. "What's one more girl, anyway?"

Aria drew her brows together but couldn't wipe the large smile from her lips. "Ooh," She admonished, her tone foreboding as she sat up again. "I'm telling Susan and Lucy you said that."

Peter shot up as well. "No, please!" He pleaded. "They'll hurt me!"

Aria started to get to her feet. "You are in big trouble, mister." She warned.

"Stop!" Peter pleaded again, his hand shooting out and grabbing hold of her shoulder. "I won't let you."

Aria raised an eyebrow and made a good show of crossing her good arm over her injured one. He mirrored her exactly, smiling in triumph. Aria took a deep breath. "SU-" And the next thing she knew, she was once again lying on her back, Peter's hand over her mouth, and his torso hovering over hers. He was careful not to jostle her arm too forcefully, though, and his sharp eyes glanced over the bandage quickly to make sure there was no new bleeding.

He smiled, sighing. "You going to be even more trouble than Lucy, aren't you?" He asked. Aria smiled, her eyes glinting with mischievousness, and nodded fervently. Peter shook his head. "If I move my hand, are you going to call for Susan again?" Aria shook her head in a no fashion, and Peter slowly removed his hand.

Aria licked her lips and then smiled again. "I'm still going to tell her." She said. "We girls have to stick together, you know."

"Yes," Peter admitted. "But now you out number us poor boys. What are we supposed to do?"

Aria bit her lip, thinking for a moment. Then she shrugged. "I don't know." She said. "Deal with being tortured, I guess."

Peter shook his head. "You know," He told her. "That really isn't very nice." He said, and Aria once again smiled softly and shrugged.

"And what's going on out here?" A familiar voice asked. Peter and Aria both looked over to see the fully recovered Edmund standing at the entrance to the boy's tent, his arms folded over his chest and a large and devious smile gracing his features.

It was at this moment that Peter realized where he was. His good arm was supporting his weight, his hand very near Aria's waist. His leg was flush against her uninjured one, and his face hovered about six inches above hers. Swallowing, he quickly drew back, allowing Aria to sit up. "We were just messing around." Peter told Edmund, getting to his feet and offering Aria his good hand.

Edmund's smile only grew at this. "Oh really?" He asked, his tone sounding very sly.

Aria sighed, allowing Peter to help her up and then swiping at the back of her gown. "If you must know." She said. "Peter was being very rude, and when I threatened to tell Susan, he tackled me. It was very unchivalrous of him." She added, smirking at Peter.

Peter smirked back. "You have grass in your hair, My Lady." He told her, bowing slightly and proceeding to walk past a guffawing Edmund.


	16. A Fairy Tale

Chapter Sixteen: A Fairy Tale

Peter had been right. As soon as Aria had jokingly told Susan what he had said, the eldest of his sisters had smacked his good arm, with rather more force than he thought was strictly necessary. He rubbed at the general area now, watching the girl across from him eat her breakfast. "You know," He told her. "I haven't bothered to check, but I'm fairly certain I have a bruise here now."

Aria merely shrugged her good arm. Fircil had, indeed, come to check on her last night after dinner, and he had insisted that the deepest part of her wound, the spot right at her elbow, needed to be stitched back together, and the area still throbbed this morning. "Well then," She countered. "If there happens to be a bruise there and merely assuming that it came from Susan and not a certain battle yesterday morning, then I suggest you use it as a reminder not to taunt girls." Then she smiled at him.

He returned it, nodding to her sling. "How is it?" He asked her, growing slightly more serious.

Aria nodded. "It's good enough." She told him. "Fircil is still worried a bit about the wrist, but he wrapped it up pretty tight and ordered me not to move it any more than strictly necessary."

"Meaning that you shouldn't even when it is necessary?" Edmund asked her, flopping onto the cushion between the two and stealing one of Aria's slices of toast.

"Probably." Peter answered, rescuing the bread before his brother could bite into it and handing it back to Aria.

"Hey!" Edmund cried, affronted. "What was all that rot about the boys having to stick together?"

Peter smiled, rubbing at his arm again. "I think I'm growing sensitive to their plight." He said, and Aria couldn't help her laughter.

Edmund harrumphed and muttered something about lacking loyalty before sitting up and reaching for his own slice of bread. Taking a large bite, he asked, "So, when were we supposed to get moving, again? It was expressed to me that we were going to be hustled out of bed for an early start, but this isn't any earlier than usual."

Aria watched the boy patiently, her chin resting in her good hand. "You know, Edmund," She started. "You're about to be crowned a king, don't you think it's about time you try to stop speaking with your mouth full?"

Edmund looked slightly affronted, but then his expression became rather bemused. He took another large bite of bread before retorting, "You know, that's fairly hypocritical." He began. "Coming from the supposedly well brought-up young lady with her elbow on the table."

Aria looked down at her elbow which was, indeed, resting about two inches away from her plate and blinked at it twice. Then she slowly removed it from the table as she looked back at Edmund. "You are becoming a very bad influence on me." She accused. Edmund merely smiled, his mouth still full, and Aria turned back to her breakfast, murmuring something about making a gentleman out of him yet.

Smiling, Peter cleared his throat. "Supposedly we're going to be leaving within the hour." He told his brother. "Aslan wanted Fircil to make his rounds again, just to make sure that everyone was ready for the journey. It should take the better part of the day. There's only one spot where the River Rush can be safely crossed, but since we have a few wagons as well as injured men, we'll be taking the long way around the whole thing instead of trying to maneuver them."

Edmund looked from his brother to Aria. "He's already spoken with Aslan, hasn't he?" He asked her.

Aria smiled and nodded. "Just after dawn, apparently." She told him. Then her smile grew as she fixed it on Peter. "But it'll be good to have someone around who knows what's going on. I, for one, will more than likely fall asleep as soon as we get moving."

"On your horse?" Edmund asked, sounding rather shocked. He waited until Aria had nodded before adding. "You're not afraid that you're going to fall off?"

Aria merely smiled at him. "Have you met my horse?" She asked.

"No." Edmund said, shaking his head.

"Just wait until you do, Ed." Peter told him. "You won't need to ask that question, I promise."

Edmund shook his head again. "Why?" He asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing really." Peter said. "He's just rather... possessive, you might say."

Aria smiled again. "He doesn't like Peter." She told Edmund.

Edmund grinned. "Then I'm sure he and I will get along just fine."

Peter snorted and decided to curve the subject back towards their impending journey. "Some of us will only be spending the night at the castle." He explained to his brother. "Aslan is only making the journey there today because he wants to make sure that those who are more injured than others get there safely. Afterwards, he wants to tour the forests in order to make sure that we free all those poor creatures who are still stone, and that there will be no immediate uprising by the Jadis's followers."

Aria nodded, then smiled to Edmund as she reached for her water goblet. "He's been trying to tell me all morning that I'm not going to go on this tour." She informed him.

Edmund gave her a smile that was almost sympathetic. "Well," He said. "You're not."

Aria nearly spat out what little sip of water she had taken. "Excuse me?" She nearly gasped. "You've known about this plan for all of ten seconds and you're already telling me that I can't go?"

Edmund shrugged. "We're not about to let you go roaming around strange countryside with a bum leg and an arm you're not allowed to move. You should know that much about us by now."

Aria clenched her jaw. "I was hoping that you, at least, would take my side."

The boy smiled at her again. "At any other time, I would." He told her. "But now, I'm not sure I'd be entirely comfortable about you coming along."

"But I don't want to stay cooped up in a strange castle like some frail fairy tale princess." Aria entreated, her hazel eyes pleading with first one brother, then the other.

Peter smiled sympathetically at her. "Just think about it this way," He told her. "By the time we get back, you'll probably have found all the secret passageways around the castle, and then you'll be able to pay us back by scaring us every chance you get." 

Aria had to admit, on some tiny level, that this would probably have been a lot of fun if it turned out to be true, but that did not stop her from glaring at the elder Pevensie. Then she raised an eyebrow slightly. "If Aslan says that I can go," She informed them both. "Then I'm going. Neither one of you has been crowned King yet." Then she smiled. "Besides, I wasn't raised in a monarchy."

"No," Edmund conceded. "But you were raised in a democracy, and, as it stands, popular vote has you staying at Cair Paravel."

But Peter shook his head, looking rather defeated, but his eyes smiling all the same. "You're forgetting that she's automatically going to get Susan and Lu's votes for her to go." He told his brother. "'Popular vote' has her not only going but leading the tour."

Edmund muttered something that ended with 'Americans' that neither Peter nor Aria could hear before snatching up another piece of toast. Peter then turned to Aria, trying one last time to try and get her to agree to staying at Cair Paravel. "You know, though," He commented. "Lucy and Susan are going to be awfully lonely if you aren't there with them. Lu will be especially upset when she finds out that you won't be able to tell her any more of Sorcha's story for a couple of weeks."

Aria's eyes narrowed, and she knew that she was, indeed, defeated. "Well played, sir." She told Peter, then she sighed. "Fine." She said. "I'll stay, but you can expect an inordinate amount of pouting."

Edmund winced. "That vocabulary was far too elaborate for the breakfast table." He whined.

"Just because you don't know what it means, doesn't mean that it's too elaborate, Ed." Came a sudden voice from behind the three, and they turned to greet Susan and Lucy as they joined them. "It just means that Aria's more sophisticated than you are." Susan added, taking the cushion on Aria's left. “Besides, inordinate and elaborate have the same number of syllables.”

Aria smiled at her in thanks as Edmund muttered, "You wouldn't have said she was more sophisticated if you'd seen her elbow on the table." And Aria poked him for his trouble.

Then she turned back to Susan and Lucy. "Apparently, the three of us are going to stay at Cair Paravel whilst these two hale and hearty men go off on an adventure." She told them, smiling cynically.

Susan smirked, knowing that Aria would have given anything to be able to with them. "That's all right." She told the older girl, patting her upper arm gently, taking care not to jostle it. "We'll have our own adventure." Aria looked skeptical. "Well," Susan prodded. "Just think of all the exciting things you can do in a castle."

Peter watched Aria's eyes turn far away as her fingers slowly moved to her necklace. Her features went through several different expressions as she obviously thought of, and then discarded several ideas in quick succession. Finally, looking a little out-of-sorts, she looked back at Susan. "Maybe you'll have to think of things for us to do." She said. "I'm afraid the only things I'm terribly interested in are the library and how soft my pillow is."

"And the secret passageways, don't forget." Peter reminded her, gesturing his point with his water goblet before taking a sip. 

Aria nodded slightly. "And the secret passageways, if there are any." She added, giving Peter what might have been a smile had it not been so small and fleeting.

"Oh, do you think that there really will be?" Lucy asked, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I've always loved the idea of them."

"There are twenty-three secret passageways, to be exact, in Cair Paravel." Came Aslan's voice from behind Aria, and the group of children turned to see that he was accompanied by a smiling Mr. Tumnus. Aslan winked at Aria and Lucy as his companion settled himself beside the youngest girl. "All of which should keep you girls quite entertained as these boys are forced to spend long days of nothing but riding and long nights in uncomfortable hammocks. All the while you get to be warm and comfortable in your own beds."

Lucy grinned, piping in, "With long, hot baths every night!" And even Aria could not help smiling at this, feeling a great need for one of those very soon.

Edmund, however, grimaced. "You know," He started, turning to Peter. "This 'staying back' at Cair Paravel is starting to sound better all the while."

Peter smiled deviously at his younger brother. "Not a chance, Ed." He deadpanned, and Edmund groaned pitifully before snatching another piece of toast and stuffing it into his mouth. Peter, glad that Aslan was trying to smooth over Aria's indignation at being left behind as well, watched the older girl carefully. 

Though he felt guilty that she wouldn't be able to accompany he and Edmund, the feeling was not so much that he was willing to overlook the concern for her injuries. The tour would, he hoped, only take he and Edmund a couple of weeks, and the rest would do the girl good. He smiled slightly, if the girls could get her to rest, that was. Aslan smiled at him, almost as if the great lion knew his thoughts.

Aria sighed, glaring down at the sling that captured her arm. "Just promise me that I'm not going to be put in a tower like that silly Rapunzel character." She grumbled. 

Lucy giggled softly, but Mr. Tumnus looked puzzled. "I'm very sorry." He said. "I don't know who this Rapunzel Character is. Is she a friend of yours from your land?"

Aria paused, swallowing a grape quickly, her eyes darting to Mr. Tumnus. "You've never heard Rapunzel?" She asked, her wide eyes communicating her incredulity.

Mr. Tumnus shook his head. "Is she very loud?"

Aria's eyes closed as she forced her lips not to smile. When they opened once more, Peter could see a glint of what he could only describe as a devious kind of excitement within their hazel depths. "It's a rather exciting tale that's often told in our land." She began, her voice becoming rich and mysterious, as it often did when she was telling Sorcha's tale, making Mr. Tumnus and Lucy both lean forward in anticipation, even though the little girl had heard this particular story a thousand times at least.

"Once, there was a baker and his wife. They made a fair living, enough to get by, and soon they were expecting their first child. The two were so excited, the baker making sure to see to his wife's every whim, every ache, every craving. Why, he even baked sweetbread for her in the darkest hours of the night, and still he got up well before dawn to open his shop. But, after weeks and weeks of this, the baker began to feel tired, and had less and less energy to keep the bakeshop running during the days, and soon, he began to think of closing the shop until the child was born.

"'But how can you?' His wife protested. 'We shall need money for food.'

"But the baker merely shook his head at her. 'I have more than enough supplies to keep our bellies filled with bread for half a year, at least.' And his wife was appeased. So, the baker closed his shop, and soon what money the two had was spent on meat and produce. These did not last very long, however, and soon all the two had left to eat was bread. Day in and day out, three meals a day: only bread.

"The baker's wife tried her best not to complain as she went about her daily tasks, her belly growing ever bigger, for she knew how hard the baker tried: making sure that her bread was warm and soft, and slathered with what little butter or preserves he could find, but her cravings would not be denied.

"Soon, she began to wish for produce, for greens. She began to dream about crunchy salads and steamed broccoli, of watercress sandwiches. She wished for asparagus and even Brussels’ sprouts. This craving filled her mind for an entire week before she spoke of it to her husband, seven whole days of craving greens and eating only bread. Finally, she crumbled, pleading with her husband to somehow get her something green to eat.

"The poor baker was at a loss. He, too, was tired of bread, and he wished with all his heart to please his beloved wife, but the money was gone. Not even the slightest penny remained. Sorrowfully, he explained this to his wife, but she had formed a plan of her own. For, you see, the baker and his wife lived just next door to another cottage, their properties closed off from one another by a high stone wall. Each day, the baker's wife did the washing, hanging it to dry on a line of rope connected to that wall, just next to a tiny crack.

"Out of curiosity one day, the wife had peered into that crack, looking straight into the neighboring house's back garden. It had been teeming with all sorts of green, leafy vegetables, and she suspected that the sight of it was what had started her craving to begin with.

"But the baker protested. 'I cannot steal other people's vegetables!' He cried. It simply wasn't a polite thing to do, you see.

"But his wife merely shook her head once more. 'The garden was overrun with weeds.' She told him. 'I wouldn't be surprised if no one has tended to it for years.' The simple fact of the matter was that the couple had never seen or heard their neighbor, and the baker's wife was convinced that not a soul lived there.

"After about an hour and half of arguing over the pros and cons, the baker, only wanting his wife's happiness, relented and, grabbing a satchel, slipped out the back door of their cottage and made straight for the stone wall. With difficulty, he climbed it and dropped himself in a heap on the other side. Getting heavily to his feet, he looked around himself to find that his wife had been right.

"The severely overgrown garden was teeming with weeds, but he could also make out heads of lettuce, what seemed to resemble the shoots of onions and carrots, and florets of broccoli. There were fruit trees and berry bushes as well, some bearing fruit and others dormant, waiting for their season.

"The baker quickly began gathering bits of everything, stuffing the produce into his satchel. Within minutes, it was full, so many plants growing in the abandoned garden. And so, he stuffed smaller items like berries and even a few carrots into the pockets of his jacket. When he could squeeze absolutely no more, nearly salivating at the thought of being able to eat something other than bread, he made his way back to the wall, eager to get his stash back to his wife.

"'Stop right there!' Came a low, crackling voice from the door to the dark house. And the baker did as it commanded, one hand still outstretched towards the cold stone. 'Turn around.' The voice ordered, and the baker complied, slowly. He peered into the darkness of the doorway and could only just make out a small, hunched figure.

"'I-I am terribly sorry.' The baker stammered. 'My wife and I had no idea that anyone lived here. A-and the garden was so overrun that we m-merely assumed...'

"'Silence!' The voice ordered, and its owner shuffled forward slowly, the light of the full moon hitting her. The baker could see now that the hunched figure was, in actuality, an extremely ancient crone. 'How dare you presume to steal from my garden?' The wizened voice shook with anger.

"I-I am so very, truly sorry!' The baker cried, slipping his satchel off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. 'You see, my wife is about to have our first child, and she looked into your garden through a crack in the wall and began to have such a craving for greens that it has become all that she can think of.' The old crone merely watched him, her eyes narrowed. 'I will leave what I took from you, dear lady, and I promise that it will never happen again.'

"'No.' The crone snapped. 'You will take what you have robbed me of and give it to your wife, but you will pay for the lot.'

"The baker shook his head, looking at his feet in shame. 'I am very sorry.' He said. 'But my wife and I - we have no money. I had to close my bakeshop.' The crone's eyes narrowed further. 'B-but I can promise that, once the child is born, I will open my shop again and I will pay you anything that you ask!' He promised, trying to appease the woman.

"It was now that the old crone's mouth cracked into a smile, and, as she was missing quite a few teeth, the baker had to stop himself from cringing. 'Yes,' The crone said, a glint coming to her eyes. 'Yes, once the child is born, you will pay me anything I ask.'

"The baker nodded, gripping the satchel strap and pulling it onto his shoulder once more, eager to get back to his house. 'Yes.' He promised. 'Yes, of course, whatever you ask.' The smiling crone nodded and watched intently as the baker climbed back over the stone wall, smiling the whole time.

"The last month of the pregnancy flew by for the couple, and soon the two became the proud parents of a beautiful blonde baby girl. The baker was now able to reopen his shop and soon the family had enough money to pay their ancient neighbor.

"The night before the baker had decided to go and see the woman, the family was sitting by the fire, both parents cooing to the child. Suddenly, there was a hard knock at the cottage door. Three times it banged, and so ominous was the sound that the baker and his wife could do naught but sit and stare towards the door.

"Again the knock sounded, and still neither could move. the third time it came, the baker made himself rise and go to the door. 'W-who is it?' He called, stopping just short. There was no answer, merely another knock, this one shaking the entire door. His nervous eyes flitting back to his wife, the baker slowly opened the door.

"Much to his surprise, he found before him the old crone, still a hunched figure, but now carrying a staff of bent and gnarled wood. 'I have come for my payment.' The old woman declared, her voice still crackling, but with a strength behind it that made the baker's knees quiver.

"'I-I was going to bring the money to you tomorrow, my good lady.' The baker explained, his hand gripping the doorknob.

"But the woman shook her head. 'I have no need of money.' she said.

"The baker shook his head, his brow furrowing. "B-but you said that you would accept payment once I had reopened my shop.' He stuttered, confused.

"The woman shook her head again, a small, twisted smile coming to her lips. 'I said that I would accept any payment I wished once the child had been born.' She corrected.

"The baker's wife now came to the door, the baby girl clutched in her arms. 'What do you want?' She asked the woman. 'We have very little, but we will pay you whatever we can.'

"The old woman nodded. 'Yes,' She said. 'You will.' She paused for a moment, her eyes glinting. 'I will take the child.'

"There was silence for a long moment before the baker's wife let out a nervous laugh. 'Y-you cannot be serious!' She cried, her knuckles becoming white as she clutched the child tighter.

"The old crone stared at her. 'I do not joke.' She deadpanned. 'I will take the child as payment for your robbery.'

"'M-my dear lady,' The baker started, beginning to think that the old woman was unwell in the head. 'I understand that what I did was wrong, and that I must pay you for the crops I stole, but you cannot have our child. anything else-'

"'There is nothing else.' The crone said, her voice deepening further. 'You promised payment of anything I wished, and I wish the child.'

"'Now you listen here, hag,' The baker's wife snapped. 'I don't care what my husband promised you, but you are not taking my child. You will simply have to find some other way we can pay you. You'll not have this babe unless it is over my corpse.'

"'That could be arranged.' The crone told her. 'If you so wish it, bit I will have that child.' And the woman straightened, seeming to grow in front of the couple as she lifted her staff off the ground. A litany of strange words escaped her thin lips as a light formed around the mottled wood. A moment later, the light shot from the staff and surrounded the baker's wife, and, within the blink of an eye, the woman was on the ground and the babe lay within the witch's arms.

"She then turned to the frozen baker. 'Your wife will live.' She told him. 'But from this day forward, you would do well to take care of who you make promises to.' And, a moment later, she had vanished into the night, leaving the baker still staring after her, his fingers never having left the door.

"Years passed, and the witch brought up the little girl as her own, far from the baker and his wife. For, you see, she had never had any children, and had long wished to care for one. She had always wanted a child to stay with her, that she could care for and tell stories to, that she could watch growing, year by year. But there was one thing that she had not counted on, that the child would not always want to stay with her.

"When the little girl, now named Rapunzel, was three, her fine golden hair in little wispy curls, she began to wander into the new garden. This didn't bother the old woman so much because she always came totting back when called. When the girl was six, with plaits and ribbons, she began to wander further, towards the great forest that grew behind the cottage, and now it became harder and harder for the witch to call her back, even with the promise of sweets.

"When she was eight, with one long, thick braid to her knees, Rapunzel adventured into the forest, and couldn't be found. Having gotten lost, the little girl didn't make her way back to the house until almost dawn, tired and hungry, scared and cold. and now the witch had had quite enough of little Rapunzel's wanderings. As the girl slept that day, the witch stole into the deepest part of the woods, using what magic she had to conjure a solitary building in it's midst.

"There, in the middle of a wildflower-strewn clearing, the old witch weaved her magic into hard stones and mortar. These she oiled on top of one another, up and up and up. By the time she was through, it was nearly midday and the structure, consisting of only one tall, tall cylinder of a tower, stretched nearly ten stories into the sky, the point of it's shingled roof just slightly shorter than the forest's tallest of trees.

"Once it was finished to the crone's satisfaction, she returned to her cottage and gathered the girl up in her arms. So tired was she that Rapunzel did not stir as the witch took her to the lone tower. Up a long flight of stairs, the woman carried her and placed her in the topmost room. And then the woman left, and when the tower door closed behind her, it disappeared, leaving only a single window at the very top to enter and exit through. 'Let us see you adventure away from here.' The woman muttered to herself as she went back to her cottage.

"Again, years passed, and the witch visited Rapunzel in her tower room, bringing her food and brushing her hair, telling her stories of far-off places and mythical creatures. Every time she came, she conjured the door, and every time she left, the door disappeared. But, soon, the witch began to feel her age, and her magic began to dwindle. She knew that she would soon have to find another way of visiting her ward.

"But by now Rapunzel was nearly fifteen, and her golden hair had grown so long and fast that it was now able to reach the ground through the tower window, ten stories below her. The witch began to have an idea, and, one day, she stood outside of the tower and called, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!' Rapunzel stuck her head out of the window, puzzled for a moment, before shrugging and doing as she was asked, dropping her long, long braid down to the woman.

"Once it was before her, the witch grasped the thick braid and began to pull herself up, ignoring the child above yelping and asking what she was doing. Within minutes, the witch was crawling inside the window, and Rapunzel was rubbing the back of her head furiously. 'Well, really!' She cried. 'You could have told me what you were going to do.' But the witch shushed her and explained about her dwindling magic, and how, if the girl wanted food, that from now on she would let down her hair whenever the woman called, and she wouldn't complain.

"This went on until Rapunzel's sixteenth year, the witch visiting her every day, though now it was only once instead of the accustomed three, for the old woman couldn't very well be expected to climb Rapunzel's hair more than once a day. Now, Rapunzel was beginning to dream of the far-off places that the witch had told her of, and longed to see them, to explore them. She was tired of being alone in her solitary tower, with nothing to see around her but green trees, and nothing to do but brush her golden hair and sing to herself.

"It was one morning, not long after Rapunzel's sixteenth birthday, that the girl was sitting at her tower window, brushing the very tip of her long braid and singing a made-up tune, and staring off into the distance, that her voice was heard elsewhere in the forest.

"On this particular day, a young prince from a neighboring kingdom was out hunting deer when he began to hear a faint voice on the wind. It was so beautiful, this lilting song, that he immediately forgot his hunt and instead set off in search of the voice's owner. It hours before he found the tower. A strange thing with no doors, it must have been ten stories high, at least, even higher that the tallest tower at his own castle.

"Still able to hear the voice, he crept around the stone tower, keeping to the trees until he came within sight of the lone window at the tower's peak. In this window sat the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with hair the exact color of corn, his favorite food. For a moment, he merely stared at her, and was about to make himself known when a crackling voice shouted, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!' He looked down, and saw the ancient crone standing at the base of the tower.

"Then, wonder of wonders, the girl in the window began to drop her hair down to the woman below. Foot after foot of golden silk fell down the tower's face. To add to the prince’s shock, the crone then grasped the twisted plait and began to heave herself up it towards the window.

"The astounded prince waited a few moments, staring up the tower towards the now-empty window, and wondering how the beautiful girl had gotten into the large tower, and just where a tower with no doors had come from in the first place.

"The young prince pondered these implausibility’s for so long that he was still hiding amongst the ferns when the long golden braid dropped itself back down the tower and the old crone began her slow descent. And still, the prince waited, an idea forming in his handsome head. he watched as the old woman planted her feet upon the grass once more, shouting up a farewell to the tower girl, who was immediately drawing her hair back up inside her window.

"The old woman left, shuffling back to wherever she had come from, but the girl still did not reappear at her window. Faintly, though, the prince began to hear her lilting voice winding its way down to him. Smiling, the prince straightened the cap on his head and emerged from the ferns. Stepping forward until he was directly under her window, he called up to the girl in a croaking, high-pitched voice, 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!'

"The lilting voice stopped, and there was a poignant pause before the golden rope was let down. He fingered the silk of the purple ribbon that ensnared the end for a moment before grasping the braid and beginning to heave himself upwards.

"Now, climbing up a braid of hair is not quite as easy as people make it sound. Though it was the silkiest hair the Prince had ever felt, it still cut into his hands just like rope did, and he, unfortunately, had not thought to wear any gloves that day. But, raw hands or not, the Prince was determined to meet this beautiful maiden of the tower. After long, sweaty moments, the prince was finally able to heave himself through the window, and it was only the many hours of fencing lessons that allowed him to land on his feet.

"He watched cautiously as the maiden, whose back was to him, rubbed her scalp furiously. She was muttering something that he could only just make out as, 'Honestly, you get heavier every time you do this.' He smirked briefly before clearing his throat to make himself known.

"The maiden froze, knowing that this was not the voice of the old crone, and slowly turned around to face the intruder. The Prince smiled and swept off his hat, bowing elegantly to her. 'I do beg your pardon, Milady.' He began, straightening once more. 'But I heard your voice whilst I was out hunting and could not resist a chance to make your acquaintance.'

"The girl, however, who was, by far, lovelier up close than she had been from a distance, did not answer him. She simply stood there, her wide green eyes wary and her long, long golden braid still hanging out of the window. The prince smiled again, this time a bit more strained. He had expected her to say something, maybe even to scream with shock and outrage, but this silence was quite disconcerting. 'I am Greggory Barter, Crown Prince of the neighboring kingdom of Gateshaw. Might I have the pleasure of your name?'

"Again, the maiden was silent, and the Prince, for all his tutelage in proper small talk, could not think of anything else to say. Finally, after a few long moments of the most awkward silence of his young life, the girl spoke. 'I am not supposed to speak to strangers.' She said, offering no more than this.

"'Well,' Prince Greggory began. 'I have already introduced myself to you, and if you were to do the same, then we would not longer be strangers, would we?'

"The maiden looked quite skeptical about this, but after another long moment, she nodded. 'My name is Rapunzel.' She told him.

"'No last name?' He asked, and she shook her head. 'Well, Rapunzel, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.' Prince Greggory extended his hand, but the maiden, Rapunzel, merely stared at it, as if unsure what to do, and so he simply dropped it. 

"Apparently, she was satisfied that they were properly introduced, for she moved around him to the window and began the long task of drawing up her hair. As she was doing so, she asked, 'What is it like?' at the exact same time that he voiced, 'How did you come to live in a tower with no doors?'

"The Prince smiled. 'I'm sorry, what is what like?' He asked, waiting for an answer to his own question out of politeness.

"Rapunzel, looking not at him, but out of her window, answered, 'Living out there. On the ground, among other people. What is it like?' But she would not allow him to answer. 'It must be terribly wonderful, not to feel so lonely all the time, to be able to go out into the woods and hunt whenever you feel like it, or even just walk down a street in the middle of a crowded afternoon.' She smiled wistfully, thinking of it all. 'My feet haven't touched the ground since I was eight-years-old.' She explained. 'I got lost in the woods one day and after that my guardian brought me to live here. To protect me.'

"The Prince shook his head. 'Your guardian locked you in a tower simply because you got lost in the woods?' He asked her, incredulous. At her answering nod, he went on to say, 'That's preposterous. Every child gets lost at some point in their youth, that's no reason to lock them away for the rest of their lives. Why, I was lost in the woods eight times before I was ten.'

"Now Rapunzel turned to look at the prince. 'Were you, really?' She asked, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement. 'Were they all wonderful adventures?'

"Prince Greggory nodded. 'They were,' He replied. 'Until I realized that I was lost, and then I was quite frightened.' He smiled, narrowing his eyes at her. 'But if you repeat that information to anyone, I shall deny it and say that you're a liar.' And he was quite pleased when this goaded a smile from the girl.

"'But I have no one to tell it to.' She reminded him. 'I've never met anyone but you, aside from my guardian.'

"'Then you'd best not tell her.' Prince Greggory advised, still trying to tease her, but at these words her smiled wavered.

"'Oh,' She said, her tone worried. 'I wouldn't dare tell her that I had met someone. You see, she hates people, and is convinced that anyone I met would try to take me away from her. That was another reason why she kept me here, so that no one would ever get the chance to try.'

"'Then I shall be your secret.' Prince Greggory assured her. 'Your guardian need never know that I was here. How often does she visit you?' And Rapunzel went on to tell him that it was only once day, usually shortly after noon, and that she never stayed for more than a couple of hours, wanting to get back to her house on the outskirts of the forest before the sun began to get too low. After Prince Greggory had promised to come and visit her whenever he could get the chance, and only after Rapunzel's guardian had left her, Rapunzel begged him to tell her tales of his kingdom: Of the people that lived there, of his friends, and even of his pets, so starved was she for companionship.

'The Prince's tales continued until it was well into dusk, and he knew that he would have to get back soon, or a search party would be called out. 'How do I get down?' He asked, standing from his chair and moving to the window.

"Rapunzel sighed. 'The same way you came up, I'm afraid.' She told him, standing next to him and dropping her long braid out the window. At his pitying look, she continued, 'It doesn't hurt as much as it used to.' She explained. 'My guardian used a bit of magic so that it would never get pulled from my head.' She gave him a reassuring smile as he began lowering himself down.

"Once he was safely on the ground, he called up to her once more, bidding her to have pleasant dreams and that eh would try to come back and see her tomorrow. He had just turned to leave when he heard her call out to him. 'You've forgotten your hat, Prince Greggory!'

"'Well, we certainly can't have that.' He agreed and thanked her as she dropped it down to him. 'Until the next time we meet, my Fair Rapunzel.' He called to her, and left, smiling at his good fortune.

"Over the next month, Prince Greggory visited Rapunzel nearly every day, bringing her tales of the outside world, books from his father's library, and even teaching her to dance. But every time he saw her, at dusk he would have to tell her goodbye. His tales only made Rapunzel ache to be free of her tower even more than she had before; his books had to return home with him each night, incase her guardian were to find them in her room; the dancing in such a cramped space was nothing compared with his longing to twirl her around a ballroom floor.

"Each time Prince Greggory visited Rapunzel, he fell a little more in love with her wistful beauty: with her silky blonde hair and her large green eyes. But after getting to know her better, he found out just how strong a spirit she had, and just how big she could dream, and he fell in love with that, too.

"He had found that her will was strong enough to withstand her imprisonment for eight years. It would have to have been strong indeed not to simply buckle into complacency for Rapunzel still yearned for freedom, still longed to know the ground and the outside world once more.

"She had told him all about her dreams - how she yearned to travel to his kingdom and beyond. How she wanted to see the ocean, to taste how air could possibly be salty if she stood near it, to feel how a wave might crash at her feet. She told him of how she wanted to plant gardens of flowers, just so that she could feel the soil in her hands and under her feet - things that she had not had the pleasure of knowing for eight long years.

"And so, Prince Greggory fell in love with the girl in the tower, and soon he began trying to devise a plan to get her away from her guardian, and down from her tower. The simplest idea would be a rope or a ladder, but he did not know of anyone who could make a sturdy ladder that reached ten stories into the air. And a rope as long as Rapunzel's hair would have to be commissioned, and even then, it would be extremely cumbersome to carry up to her tower. There was also the problem of what to do with her after he had rescued her from her tower prison.

"Of course, by this time Greggory knew that he wanted to marry her, and therefore she would be able to stay at his palace, but how would he explain her to his parents? They would never believe the story of a maiden locked in a solitary tower with no doors and only one window, hidden deep within the woods. Who would believe such a tale unless they had seen or experienced it for themselves?

"'It will have to be the rope.' He told Rapunzel one afternoon, having decided to leave the second of his problems alone until the time came when he had to deal with it. He had brought a picnic of sorts with him today, along with a wildflower that he had tucked behind her ear - Another thing that would have to leave with him at dusk. 'It will take the rope makers about two weeks to finish it, and then I'll carry it up here however I must. It isn't fair, that I have to keep leaving you up here.'

"Rapunzel was, as usual, looking out of her window, longing for a world she couldn't touch, but now she smiled. 'It's sp hard to believe that I might actually be able to leave this tower.' She said, turning to him. 'Do you really think we'll be able to?'

"At this Prince Greggory stood and crossed the small tower room to take her hands in his. 'Trust me.' He told her. 'I will take you away from here. And you will never be locked away from the world again.' He looked down into her eyes, and found that she did, in fact, trust him, though she hardly had reason to trust anyone. Realizing this, the prince couldn't help himself, but dropped his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a kiss. After a long moment, he drew away, twirling her around the room before asking her to let down her hair.

"'You're leaving?' She asked, her cheeks flushed from his kiss.

"Prince Greggory nodded. 'The sooner I commission the rope, my fair lady, the sooner you can be free. And,' He added, drawing her close to him once more. 'The sooner I can marry the most beautiful damsel in all the known world.' Rapunzel's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, and she shook her head at him, calling him an insufferable flatterer as she went back to the window and let down her hair.

"Prince Greggory descended, promising to return as soon as he could, which he hoped to be tomorrow. When he was gone, Rapunzel fell onto her bed, a smile on her face and thoughts of wedding vows by the seashore in her head. In their happiness, however, neither the Prince nor the maiden noticed the feathered hunting cap on the table.”


	17. A Castle by the Sea

Chapter Seventeen: Cair Paravel

“He didn’t!” Susan cried, leaning closer to Aria. “Please tell me that he didn’t?”

Aria nodded sadly. “He did, indeed.” She conceded.

“Oh! How could he be so careless?” Lucy moaned. “She’s going to get into so much trouble!”

“Please, Aria, you can’t stop there!” Susan coaxed. “What happened when the old crone came back? Did Rapunzel realize the prince’s hat was still there before she did? Or was it still on the table?”

Aria smiled, the glint in her eyes still apparent, and took a breath, getting ready to continue the tale, but Aslan had other ideas. “I’m sorry to interrupt such an excellently woven tale, children,” He began. “But if we are ever to reach Cair Paravel before nightfall, we would do well to leave now.”

Lucy, Susan, and Mr. Tumnus uttered matching moans of disappointment, each dejectedly sagging back onto their cushions in a single swoop. Peter could not help but laugh at them all. “You all look as if Christmas had been cancelled.” He told them.

Lucy sighed once more. “I feel like Christmas has been cancelled.” She said dejectedly.

Aria smiled at her. “You know,” She started. “If you ride next to me today, I’m fairly certain that I’ll be able to talk and ride at the same time. I doubt that it would be too difficult.”

Lucy’s face broke out into a grin, just as Susan’s and Mr. Tumnus’s did the same. And, again, Peter could not hold back a chuckle. “You may have to wait a bit for the rest of the story, though.” He pointed out, getting to his feet.

Lucy’s grin faded a bit. “Why?” She asked.

Peter smiled. “Because Lorin would be awfully confused if Aria just started in the middle without telling him the beginning.”

Aria reached out with her good hand and patted Lucy’s arm. “Don’t worry.” She assured her. “I’ll give him the short version, so that you don’t have to hear the entire beginning again.”

Lucy shook her head, grinning at Aria again. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind that.” She said. “You’re a wonderful storyteller, Aria.”

“Indeed, she is.” Peter agreed, stepping around Edmund and offering his good hand to Aria to help her up, wanting to make sure that she put no undue weight on her ankle.

Aria cocked an eyebrow at him before accepting his hand. “Hm.” She said. “A cripple helping a cripple. And why does that seem rather unnecessary?”

Peter smiled as he easily pulled her to her feet, not missing how Susan came to her feet as well, her hands slightly outstretched to help Aria balance if she had need of it. “I knew that Edmund wouldn’t have offered, and that you were stubborn enough to try standing on your own.” He stated.

Aria sighed. “A person should be able to get to their own feet without assistance.” She said. “It’s not as if it isn’t something I don’t do every day.”

“You don’t have a sprained, nearly broken ankle every day, now do you?” He admonished gently, his hand possessing hers a moment longer than necessary before he slowly let it drop. “Now,” He added. “Let’s get you to Lorin so that we can all sleep in comfortable, actual beds this evening. I know that you girl’s haven’t hazarded the experience of sleeping in hammocks, but I can tell you on good authority that it is nowhere near as comfortable as a mattress. Even a lumpy one.”

\-- -- -- -- -- --

“Later that same afternoon, Rapunzel was lounging about her tower room, happily daydreaming about her first kiss, humming merrily to herself and imagining what it would be like when her feet touched the ground for the first time in eight years. So lost in her thoughts was she that she almost did not hear her ancient guardian’s call for her to let down her hair.

“Hurrying to the window, she did as the old woman bade her, muttering even as she winced that someday soon her scalp would no longer have to put up with this torture. Once the old woman was finally inside the tower room, as out of breath as Rapunzel herself, she handed her ward the customary basket and limped her way to the desk chair.

“’Good afternoon, Rapunzel, dear.’ The old woman began, once she had caught her breath. ‘Was your morning productive?’

“Rapunzel sat on the edge of her bed, drawing her long braid through her fingers until she came to the end. ‘I re-braided my hair.’ She lied quickly. ‘And I did some cleaning.’

“At this, the old woman frowned, running a testing finger over the back of the chair. ‘You didn’t get around to dusting, I see.’ She criticized.

“Rapunzel swallowed, her eyes dropping to the floor. ‘I was about to.’ She explained, quickly looking up through her lashes at her guardian. Instead, her eyes fell on the desk itself, on top of which sat Prince Gregory’s pointy, feathered cap. She froze instantly, and felt her face pale. Swallowing convulsively once again, she forced herself to continue. ‘I-it’s just that r-re-braiding my hair took so much l-longer than I had expected it to.’

“The old woman sighed. ‘Calm yourself, child.’ She said. ‘I’m not angry with you over such a simple thing as a bit of dust.’ Then her gaze hardened, her blue eyes turning icy. ‘Especially since you are going to dust whilst I prepare our meal.’

“Rapunzel nodded quickly, trying desperately to think of a way to keep the cap from her guardian’s sharp gaze. ‘Of course, ma’am.’ She acquiesced, plucking the basket from the bed where she had set it and handing it the woman as she slowly lumbered to her feet. As soon as she had taken a step away from the desk, Rapunzel made a quick step towards it, trying to squeeze behind the old woman’s frame.

“’Rapunzel, dearest, where is your head today?’ The crone all-but-snapped. ‘How in the world do you intend to wipe up the dust in this tower without a rag in you hand? Do you intend to use the lace on your sleeve?’

“Frustrated, Rapunzel bit her lower lip harshly. ‘No, ma’am.’ She conceded, and reluctantly moved away from the desk, careful to stay behind her guardian as they both moved to the kitchenette. Quickly, she grabbed her dusting rag from a basket on the counter and moved back towards the desk, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that the woman’s focus was elsewhere.

“Sighing with silent relief, Rapunzel reached the desk without incident and plucked up the cap, clutching it to her breast with one hand as the other sloppily mopped up what little dust there was on the desk and its chair. Finishing quickly, Rapunzel made to move towards the head of her bed, intending to stuff Prince Gregory’s cap underneath her pillow, safely out of sight, when the crone spoke once more.

“’Rapunzel, dearest,’ She started. ‘You know how much I love you, don’t you?’ Startled, Rapunzel could only turn towards the old woman, moving the hat from her breast to behind her back in what she could only hope was a casual manner.

“’O-of course I do!’ She stuttered, her fingers tightening about the felt hat as her guardian turned towards her.

“’And you know that the reason I keep you up here is to protect you.’ The old woman continued. ‘There are far too many dangerous things out there on the ground that would find no greater pleasure than catching you up and making absolutely sure that we never saw each other again. With you being such a great beauty, what creature could resist you?’

“Rapunzel knew enough to nod slowly, even though she knew that the old woman was keeping her here only for selfish reasons. ‘O-of course, I know that.’ She acquiesced. ‘I’m thankful for the protection you’ve given me.’

“The old woman nodded, but Rapunzel could see her eyes turn an icy cold. ‘Then tell me, my pet, why you would lie to me.’

“The young girl balked. ‘L-lie to you?’ She stammered, clutching the cap at her back even tighter, her knuckles going white around it. ‘W-why would I lie to you?’

“’Well, I don’t know, Rapunzel.’ The woman coaxed, her voice taking on a considerably darker tone. ‘That is precisely why I asked you that very same question.’ The crone took a step towards her ward. ‘But since we are on the subject, why do you answer me with the very same words? Could it be that you know that you are, in fact, lying to me now? That you have been for weeks now?’

“Rapunzel found that she could not speak, could not even begin to try and argue, so shocked was she that the old witch knew about her visits from the prince. ‘Did you really think,’ The old woman pressed, now closing in on Rapunzel, ‘That your little trinket would go unnoticed?’ And, with that, she lashed out behind Rapunzel, snatching the cap from her clutching fingers and waving it in the girl’s face. 

“’Did you think that I wouldn’t notice it the very moment I stepped into this tower?’ She continued, her cold eyes piercing her charge. ‘My eyes are sharper than yours could ever hope to be, my dear little Rapunzel. You should have been more careful.’

“Shaking horribly and fighting to catch her breath, Rapunzel did the only thing she could think of. She threw herself at the old woman’s feet, clutching at her skirts with trembling hands. ‘Forgive me!’ She cried. ‘I was so lonely!’

“She felt the witch’s hand place itself gently atop her head. ‘Was I not company enough for you, child?’ She asked, her voice alarmingly calm. ‘Was the company of the woman who raised you, cared for you, clothed and fed you; was my love not enough for you?’

“Rapunzel buried her face in the old woman’s skirts, mumbling, ‘I’m not a child.’

“The crone stilled. ‘What did you say?’ She said, her usually clear voice beginning to shake.

“Taking a deep breath, Rapunzel released the old woman’s skirts. ‘I said,’ She repeated. ‘That I am no longer a child.’ She looked up at her guardian, the wrinkled hand falling away from her golden head. ‘I am sixteen years old. I long to see the world, to feel the grass beneath my feet, to lie amongst the wildflowers, and to see places I’ve only read about.’

“The old woman seemed to have lost her breath. Panting slightly, her hand went to her side as her fingers limply let loose Prince Gregory’s cap. It landed gently in Rapunzel’s lap, and her fingers immediately plucked it up. ‘The Prince is going to take me there.’ She said, smiling down at the hat and plucking soothingly at the now slightly wrinkled feather. ‘He’s coming soon to take me away from here. He’s going to show me all the places he’s told me about, and then… then he’s going to marry me.’

“Rapunzel then felt the old woman’s hand on her head once more. ‘No,’ The witch told her, the hand moving softly to the top of Rapunzel’s long, thick braid. Stilling, Rapunzel looked up once more at the face of the only mother she had ever known, and was stricken to see the jewel dagger slowly withdrawn from the sheath at the old woman’s waist. ‘He’s not.’

“And, with that, the woman wrenched Rapunzel’s head around and swiftly sliced the blade through Rapunzel’s thick plait, severing it from her head completely before tossing Rapunzel to the floor. Stunned, the young girl’s trembling hand slowly reached up to her shorn head. As soon as her searching fingers touched the crudely shorn, uneven tips of her hair, she screamed. A sharp, tearing sound that ended abruptly as she fainted, slumping to the floor, one hand still clutching the Prince’s feathered cap.

“The old woman sighed, caressing the stolen end of her ward’s braid for a moment, before beginning to wind a good length of it around the bedpost, securing it tightly. She then moved to the fallen figure of the child she had stolen, caressing her shorn head lightly. ‘You wanted to see the world, child?’ She asked the unresponsive girl. ‘Then I will show you a world you have never dreamed of.’”

Aria swallowed, her fingers plucking up a water skin that was slung onto her saddle and taking a large drink. She tried to hide her grin at the shocked and expectant faces of Lucy, Susan, and Mr. Tumnus. 

The latter of the three, having never heard the fairytale before, was understandably far more upset than his counterparts. “Such evil simply must be punished!” He cried. “The good prince must have come to put a stop to the witch, did he not, my Lady?”

“Of course he did!” Chimed in Lorin, his velvety ears flicked in consternation. “He would hardly be a good prince if he simply forgot about his lady-love! I would never have left her alone in the first place!”

Aria sighed dramatically, dropping the water skin smoothing her long braid back behind her shoulder. “Prince Gregor did, in fact, return to Rapunzel’s tower, but he was too late. When first he had left Rapunzel, he had immediately gone down to the docks outside the palace gates, asking where he could get a rope that would reach ten stories high. 

“The sailors there had all sent him to the ropemakers’ shop, for, though they all had rope aplenty, none could be spared that was as long as the prince needed. When Gregor placed his order with the old man and his two apprentices, they told him that it would take them weeks to make a rope that long.

“Of course, hearing this, the prince was rather disheartened, as you can imagine. But he knew that there was no other way to get Rapunzel down from her tower. And, even so, the pair had waited this long, and another few weeks couldn’t do any harm. In the meantime, he could still visit Rapunzel.

“After his trip to the ropemakers, he returned to the castle, as it was growing rather late, and all the excitement of the day had made him rather hungry. And there, he was met by his mother and father, the King and Queen, naturally.

“Now, Gregor’s absences had not gone unnoticed by his parents. For the past month, the prince had been gone every day with no explanation other than that he had been out hunting. Now, it was one thing for the prince to go out hunting every once in a while, but every day? And not once had he come home with any kind of prize. Not a bird, not a deer, not a boar – nothing. 

“It was all very strange, and the Queen, for one, had had quite enough of it by now. She and the King had spoken, in great length, that afternoon, and both had decided that the prince needed more responsibilities to keep him at the castle, rather than wandering off to who-knows-where and getting himself into all kinds of trouble.

“That evening, at dinner, the Queen told her son as much. ‘Your father and I think that it was high time you started thinking of your future, Gregor.’ She said. ‘You’re quite old enough now that you should start taking on some of your father’s duties – and that your wife should take on some of mine.’

“At this, Gregor nearly spit out the entire mouthful of meat he had been chewing until now. ‘W-wife?’ He spluttered. ‘What wife?’

“The Queen sighed. ‘You’re nineteen now, Gregor.’ She said. ‘You really should start thinking about these things now, before the chancellor’s decide that your father and I should do it for you. And trust me, they are already starting to talk about it.’

“The Queen then moved on, seeing by the look on her son’s face that he was unwilling to discuss this matter at the moment. ‘In the meantime,’ She continued. ‘Your father and I have decided that you will host a tournament over the next few weeks. We have already sent out the invitations, all that you will have to do is plan the events themselves, and what prizes should be given for which events.

“’Your father will help you, don’t worry. And I will take care of the banquets and such, but this will be a good opportunity for you to begin taking over for your father, as well as socializing with your knights and those of our neighboring kingdoms.’ The Queen paused before continuing. ‘It will also take up the majority of your time so that you will be here instead of gallivanting around the forest alone.’

“Gregor blanched. ‘But mother-‘ He started.

“But the Queen would have none of it. ‘No.’ She deadpanned. ‘You have been away from the palace and neglecting your duties for a whole month with absolutely nothing to show for it. You have obligations to your kingdom and your people, young man, and I expect you to start living up to them. Beginning now.’

“’And Gregor could broach no argument. He couldn’t even think of one that wasn’t the truth about Rapunzel. And, if he had told his mother that he was trying to rescue a girl from a tower in the middle of the woods that had no doors and only one window – a girl whose hair he had to climb up in order to see her – she would most certainly have thought him completely mad, and, ‘for his own safety’, would have locked him in his rooms.

"And so, for the next week, Gregor was watched, if not directly by his mother, than by guards and maids and others around the castle that completely agreed with the queen that his behavior of the last month had been altogether too odd. There was absolutely no chance for him to sneak out of the palace to see Rapunzel - and really no good news to tell her even if he had. 

"The rope was still unfinished, and the owner of the shop had warned him that it would take at least the whole week. And so, Gregor performed his duties under his parent's and the councilor’s watchful eyes. He planned the jousts, the sword fights, the wrestling matches; the prizes for each. He danced at the feasts each night, competed in the tournaments himself each day - always with the back of his mind firmly fixed on Rapunzel - and hoping that she somehow knew that he had not abandoned her.

"But then, at the end of the long, bleak week without her, a message was delivered to the castle - via an awed and scruffy looking waif that Gregor immediately recognized as one of the ropemaker's apprentices. The rope, at last, was ready.

"Immediately, Gregor had dashed from the hall, and not even the largest of the guards could have stopped, not even his mother's shout could have halted him. There was no time to saddle his horse, no time to change into something more suitable for riding through the woods - and certainly no time to go through the ruse that he was going out 'hunting'.

"And so, bareback, he rode down to the wharf, and collected the ten-story long rope, and hurriedly throwing it over his chest and shoulder, tossed the old man the bag of gold that he had been bout to present to the jousting champion, and was on his way again, pushing his horse faster and faster, tearing through the woods on the path his own feet had memorized.

"So excited was he, that when he reached her tower, he barely took the time to glance around to make sure that the old crone was nowhere in sight before dismounting and shouting, 'Rapunzel! Rapunzel, let own your hair!'

"It took but a few moments, and then from the window dropped Rapunzel's long, golden braid, and he grasped it, climbing quickly, mumbling that this would be the last time his love would ever have to do this: for him or for anyone. It didn't take him long, and with the rope still wrapped around his body, he pulled himself into the tower room, looking around for Rapunzel, sure that she would be standing there with open arms to greet him - or a slight scowl because he had taken so long to come to her again.

"But Rapunzel was not there. She was not standing next to the window, nor was she in the small kitchen nook, nor was she sitting at her little desk. Puzzled, and not a little fearful, Gregor's eyes followed the length of the braid from where it disappeared out of the window - to where it's frayed end was tied around Rapunzel's bedpost.

"'She's not here, Prince.' Came a cold, creaking voice from the shadowy corner on the opposite side of the bed. And, although her had never heard her say anything but asking Rapunzel to let down her hair, Gregor recognized the voice immediately as the old crone's. Indeed, it could have been no one else's.

"Drawing the dagger at his belt that had been his only weapon - and it was more of a ceremonial decoration than an actual weapon, so dull had it become - Gregor pointed it at the woman. 'Where is she, then?' He demanded. 'What have you done with her?'

"The old woman stepped out of the shadows, an old staff clutched in one clawed hand, its wood gnarled and frail.’She's gone.' The crone spat. 'Gone where neither you nor anyone will ever find her again. She is mine and I will never let her go.'

"Gregor drew himself up, not allowing this wretched creature to intimidate him. 'You're wrong.' He deadpanned. 'I will find her, even if I have to search the ends of this earth. Even if I have to look in every cave, up every mountain, in the deepest lakes or the tallest trees. I will find her. She's not yours any longer - she's a woman grown and should be free of your tyranny and abuse.'

"'Abuse!' The old crone spat. 'That child has had a better life with me than she would ever have had with her family. A life of toil and work - that's what she would have had! But no - I pampered her, petted her, gave her everything she ever asked for - and then what? All she ever wants to do is leave me!'

"'Maybe because you locked her in tower!' Gregor cried. 'Locked her up with no friends - no human companionship!'

"The old crone scoffed. 'She's never needed anyone but me.' She whispered. 'Not until you came along, Prince. You're the reason why she's disobeyed me - why she's no longer content. But, as you say - you will never stop looking for her - so I think the only fit punishment for you - is that you never look again.'

"And Gregor felt the power before he saw it - felt it drawing itself around the crone's staff, and knew suddenly - as he really should have the entire time - that the old witch did still have some power left. Mumbling a few words, the witch sent the power from the staff to Gregor, and there was nothing he could do against it.

"His eyes began to cloud over - his vision to darken quickly around the edges. Desperate, he threw the dagger in the witch’s general direction, now unable to make her out from the shadows surrounding her. He knew he had missed, though, when he felt her surprisingly strong, gnarled fingers against his arm. 

"'You'll never find her now, Prince.' She whispered viciously in his ear as the entire world went completely dark. 'Although, you are fully welcome to try. But first,' And he could hear the cruel smile in her words. 'Let me help you get back out of the window.' And, with that, she pushed him with surprising strength. 

"The back of his knees caught the windowsill as he toppled, headfirst, out of the ten-story tall tower. It was awful, falling without being able to see where he was going, knowing that, at any moment - and he would never be able to know what moment it was - that he was going to crash into the ground below - the ground that Rapunzel had so wanted to touch.

"But suddenly, he remembered that her golden rope of hair was still hanging out of the tower window - and if he could but find it, it could save him. He stretched out is arms, straining them all around him, until his knuckles scraped against the stones of the tower, and then, miraculously, his finger's brushed the silk of Rapunzel's severed braid. Fumbling, he grasped it, gripping it tightly and giving out a great yelp of pain when his arms wrenched nearly from their sockets, his hands burned as they slid against the hair.

"And, although this desperate grab at salvation help to slow his fall, he heard a great snap com from above him, and there was suddenly no tension in the braid at all. Rapunzel's hair had snapped, and once more he fell towards the ground with nothing to save him.

"He panicked then, for a moment, before he hit the grass, feeling a great snap as his arm hit first, and then he rolled feeling the pain race from his wrist to the rest of his body before he came to a stop. Bruised and broken, but, thankfully, still alive. He felt the remnants of Rapunzel's hair tumble on top of him, and felt a great satisfaction that the old witch wouldn't be able to climb down it ever again.

"Disoriented, Gregor lay on the ground for a long few moments. He knew from the pain - and the snapping noise - that his wrist was broken. He would need to make a splint for it soon, but he would worry about that later. He knew two things clearly - one: that he could not go back to his palace. No one there would understand - or believe - what had happened to him, and his parents would never allow him back out again, and that would be of no help to Rapunzel.

"Two: That Rapunzel was out there somewhere, alone and scared and who knew what else. She was counting on him, and, if the witch really was stuck in that tower - and it would serve her right is she was - then Gregor was the only other person in the world who even knew of Rapunzel's existence. And, if she was trapped somewhere, there would be no one who could help her - who would take care of her. And Gregor vowed that he would not fail her again.

"And so, he began to lift himself to his feet, slowly freeing himself from the tangle of both rope and hair. As he stood, his fingered the ribbon at the end of the braid, untying it and stuffing it into his tunic. Then, clutching his injured wrist to his chest, and feeling around in front of himself cautiously with the other, Gregor picked a direction and began walking. No matter how long it took, no matter how impossible it seemed, he would find her.

"Gregor walked, and walked, and still walked. He walked until his feet were numb, and then kept walking. He walked until his feet bled, and kept walking. Day or night made no difference to him - he couldn't see them anyway. The only way he could tell which was which was whether birds sang or crickets chirped. He stopped only to sleep, and when he awoke, he walked on.

"He drank when he heard streams, he ate when he smelled wild strawberries or blackberries, but he ate no round berries, afraid that he would guess wrong and what he thought may be a blueberry would truly be a poisonous red berry that might kill him before he found her.

"And always, always, he called to her. He called his Rapunzel's name night and day, his voice growing hoarse and ragged. But he would not stop, ever. He walked and walked, and called and called. He didn't know where he went, or where he had come from, the only thing he knew was that he had to keep going.

"Eventually, he made a splint for his wrist, using two thick pieces of bark and a long thick vine, but though the pain faded to the back of his mind, it never really went away. His polished boots fell apart around his aching feet, his tunic ripped at the seams, his face and neck and arms were covered in scratches from offending branches he could not see. And, after he had nearly been poked in the eye several times by those same branches, he fashioned a blindfold out of Rapunzel's ribbon to keep them closed and somewhat protected.

"He did not know how long he searched, how many days or nights. He did not care. He simply walked, letting his feet pick the direction. He called, never resting, only pausing long enough between each to hear if she called back to him. 

"And then, one day - he could tell because he could hear the twitter of a bird - his feet would carry him no longer, and he collapsed, falling in a heap at the base of a tree. He tried to pull the remnants of his boots off, but his feet were so swollen from neglect and abuse that it was impossible, and only cause him further pain. And so, he simply sat, but still he called to her, unable to cease.

"A long time after, his voice nearly gone from thirst and weariness, he heard a voice call back to him, sweet and musical. Calling his name! It was her! It was his Rapunzel! Finding a last pitiful measure of strength, he began to crawl towards the sound of her voice, but found that his was stopped by gentle, cool hands upon his shoulders.

"'Oh, Gregor.' She gasped, collapsing next to him and pulling his tired body into her lap, cradling him to her. 'My poor love, what has happened to you?'

"But Gregor, no matter how he hurt, not thinking of his own woes, could not stop smiling at last, and lifted his hand to blindly find her cheek, caressing its softness before sinking his fingers into her shorn hair. 'Rapunzel.' He croaked. 'My Rapunzel. I found you.'

"He felt her shudder, sobbing. 'Yes,' She confirmed. 'Yes, you did.' Her cool hands slid over his fevered brow, bringing him untold comfort. 'But what has happened to you, my love?' She asked. 'What's wrong with your eyes?'

"Gregor swallowed, his finger's still twirling in her short hair. 'The witch.' He stammered. 'S-she... She blinded me. She did it so that I could look for you. But I did - I did find you. I did.'

"And Rapunzel gently, removed her frayed ribbon, gently kissing his eyelids, and he felt her warm tears hit them softly. 'It's no matter.' She whispered. 'We're together now. Everything's going to be all right.' She smoothed his scraggly hair beck from his forehead before running her fingers over his chapped lips gently. 'You must be thirsty.' She realized. 'Here, I'll get you some water.'

"'No-' Gregor started, his hand tightening in her hair. 'Stay-'

"But Rapunzel shushed him. 'It's all right. I have a water skin just over there, I won't be far.' She gently untangled his fingers from her hair and propped him back against the tree. Again, her fingers smoothed his brow before he heard her step only a few paces away. His eyes, now uncovered by Rapunzel's silken ribbon, itches terribly, and he supposed it was from the scratches they had received.

"He rubbed at them with his good hand, blinking, but the itching only became worse. And then, the blackness that had been his world for so long now, was beginning to lighten. Blinking still more, he rubbed his eyes more fiercely, and the world around him began to take on shapes.

"A few more blinks, and Rapunzel came into view before him, crouched and rifling through a leather satchel. Her hair was, indeed ragged and short, her pretty dress torn - and he recognized it as the same gown she had been wearing the last day he had seen her. Had she been out here all this long time? Her bare feet were dirty and in almost a bad a shape as his - which, now that he could see them, were horrifying. But - he could see!

"'Rapunzel!' he gasped, and she immediately dropped her satchel and turned to look at him. 'I can see again!'

"Rapunzel's face broke out into a smile, and she launched herself towards him, throwing her arms around him as he crushed her to his chest. She had been right - now that they were together once more everything would be all right.

"Rapunzel took care of Gregor, making him drink and eat and rest for a full day before the two began the long journey back to his kingdom. It took them a full fortnight, just as it had for them to find each other, and when they finally made it, the King and Queen were so overjoyed to finally have their son back, that they welcomed Rapunzel as well.

"Just as Gregor had expected, the story of how he and Rapunzel had met was a rather hard pill to swallow, but, after the two were sufficiently recovered from their trials, they took Gregor's parents - as well as a contingent of soldiers - into the forest to Rapunzel's tower. Her long braid and the rope Gregor had commissioned still lay at the base of the quiet tower, but with the help of a grappling hook, one of the soldiers made his way up into the tower, only to quickly slide back down again after only a short peek through the window.

"'The old witch is still in there, all right.' He confirmed, after sucking in great cleansing breaths of air. ' Dead as anything. Starved from the looks of her.'

"Gregor placed his arm around Rapunzel's shoulders, unsure of how she would react to this news, and she dropped her head to his chest. 'It's over.' She whispered. 'We never have to worry about her again.' And he squeezed her gently, before allowing his mother to fawn over Rapunzel.

"'Oh, my dear!' She cried, peeling the girl away from her son. 'However did you manage not to go mad up there?' But she did not wait for an answer before beginning to pull Rapunzel away from the tower. 'How anyone could shut a child away in a place like that-' And she kept ranting the entire ride back to the palace - and for quite a long time thereafter. 

"And so she had nothing to say against Gregor and Rapunzel's marriage, nor of their wanting to go a very long honeymoon: to see the sea, the desert, everywhere that Gregor had promised her - and then to stay away from the kingdom even longer in order to try and find Rapunzel's real family.

"And so, now that they finally had each other, and did not have to worry about the old witch's revenge, the two could - and did - finally live happily ever after.”

As Aria finished the tale, she smiled, taking another long drink from her water skin.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Lorin cried. “That was a beautiful tale, my Heart! I simply knew that everything would turn out all right in the end!”

Tumnus, too, was wearing a wide smile. “Indeed,” He agreed. “It was. But I do have one question?” He asked, his eyes beseeching Aria, who nodded encouragingly. “Did the two ever find the Lady Rapunzel’s parents?”

Aria nodded. “They did, indeed.” She said. “In a little town quite far away from Prince Gregor’s kingdom. And, after the family was reunited, Rapunzel’s parents were invited to stay at the palace any time that they wished and for as long a visit as they would like, which, of course was very long. And the baker never had to open his shop again, and only baked absolute masterpieces whenever he felt like it.”

Tumnus nodded. “That is wonderful.” He said, appeased.

Lucy, too, was beaming. “Oh Aria,” She said. “That was the best ‘Rapunzel’ I’ve ever heard! You should tell more stories like that, I don’t think anyone in Narnia has heard any of our fairy tales.”

Aria smiled over at Lucy, but shook her head gently. “I’m sure that you’re right.” She conceded. “But I’m afraid I don’t have another story in me today. Soon, though.” She amended, seeing the slight fall in the little girl’s face. “I think, next time, I’ll tell the tale of Snow White. Would you like that?”

Of course, Lucy’s head bobbed up and down so vehemently that Aria was a little afraid that it would soon come off her shoulders altogether. But, at least the little girl was appeased, and Aria’s overworked jaw could take a bit of a rest for the remainder of the afternoon.

"What I can't understand," Came Edmund's voice from in front of Aria, where he and Peter rode side by side. "Is why Gregor never had the idea to cut Rapunzel's hair instead of having a rope made - especially if he knew it was going to take so long. And, for that matter," He continued, barely taking a breath. "Why did he wait a whole month before deciding to rescue her? I mean, if I were to find a girl trapped in a tall tower in the middle of the woods, I would wait to try and get her down. That would just be common sense, wouldn't it?"

Aria opened her mouth to answer, but it was Peter's voice that said, "That's not how fairy tales go, Ed. Prince Gregor needed to go through his own trials, or else he would never have been able to be with Rapunzel. If he had simply rescued her, without them both coming to know each other, he would have had to let her go - she never would have stayed with him if she were free to see the world on her own. He also never would have found out that the witch had kidnapped her - and so Rapunzel never would have been able to find her real family. And his own parents would never have allowed him to marry her - even if he had wanted to before he fell in love with her. Everything in a fairy tale has a purpose."

Aria could not help her slight giggle as Edmund gaped at his brother. "Why do you always have to be so - so sensible about everything?" He asked, his tone both amazed and almost petulant.

Everyone around the two brothers could not help their laughter, but it died very suddenly when the group cleared the final trees and the grand expanse of Cair Paravel was revealed before them.

It was huge, to begin with; large enough that Aria was surprised that it was not a city. It had levels upon levels of walls and towers and domes, with every last stone as white and reflective as a mirror. Most of the ceilings were glass, and they too shone brightly in the midday sun. It was breathtakingly - heartrendingly - beautiful. Every surface that Aria could see shone just brightly enough that it was entirely captivating - but not so bright that it hurt one's eyes to look upon it.

"Welcome home, children." Came Aslan's voice from ahead of them, and moved forward, urging them all to follow him across the great stone bridge that led to the great main gates of the castle.

On their way in through the gate, Aria faintly heard Aslan explaining how many entrances there were and where they led, but her attention was far more focused on taking in her new surroundings. Many of the Narnians had preceded them into the city, and were dropping flower petals down onto Aslan and the five children as they passed through the gates, coming to a stop deeper into the main courtyard.

Aria had not expected everything to be so green within the outer walls of the castle - but in hindsight realized that she should have expected it. There were trees everywhere in the courtyard, the nymphs that lived within them making their appearances and greeting the new arrivals.

It was here that the children dismounted, Lorin very kindly kneeling to allow Aria a gentle climb to her feet before he and the other horses were led away. Aslan turned to them, "The nymphs of the gardens of Cair Paravel will take you each to your rooms." He told them, gesturing behind him with a shake of his mane. "I will make sure that all the others are settled, and that the wounded are looked after. I suspect that everyone would like to take a bit of time to tidy themselves before a tour and the evening meal?"

The children all vehemently agreed, Susan especially exclaiming how much she longed for a hot bath. Aslan chuckled and moved away, leaving them the nymphs. Aria's guide introduced herself gently as Pristine. "I tend the rose gardens, my lady." She explained. "And it would be an honor to attend you."

"Gardens?" Aria gasped, surprised. "As in plural?"

The nymph nodded, and smiled with pride, her dusky rose-colored eyes lighting up. "Yes, my lady." She said. "There is the trellis garden, the white rose garden, and the greenhouse garden."

Aria smiled. "They sound beautiful." She sighed. "I can't wait to see them." And she was treated to Pristine's flush of pride. She gestured for Aria to follow to her. Before Aria had taken a step, however, Edmund stood next to her, his arm offered rather gallantly, and Aria's eyebrow rose in question.

Edmund smiled deviously. "For the steps." He explained. "We wouldn't want you to tax yourself too much, now would we?" His tone, not to mention the smirk on his face, told Aria that he knew exactly what she would have liked to say to him then, and it also told her that he knew that it would have been none-too-ladylike either. But, as it was, she was fairly certain that there were quite a few sets of stairs in her near future, and she had enough common sense to know that they would do her ankle no good.

And so she took his arm, mumbling a thank you and they both allowed Pristine to lead them into the palace, Edmund's own nymph guide trailing behind them with a soft smile. However, as the two passed Peter, Aria did not miss his look of satisfaction in knowing that she was not about to begin navigating on her own.


	18. A Feeling Just Like Home

Chapter Eighteen: A Feeling Just Like Home

"You can't be serious." Aria balked as they stood outside the door to her rooms.

Edmund, still with her arm in his, was shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. The large rosewood door, already on the third floor of the castle, led to Aria's rooms. No, actually, it opened on the rounded stairs that led up to the tower where Aria's rooms lay.

"I thought I had mentioned something about not wanting to be shut away in a tower." She mumbled, hoping that her voice had been low enough that Pristine would not hear, even as Edmund shook all the harder. But the look of alarm that passed over the nymph's features told her that either the nymph had very good hearing - or that Aria had not spoken quite as softly as she had hoped.

She sighed, resigning herself quickly and slipping a smile onto her face. "Well," She said, tugging on Edmund's arm. "At least I have a door." And she began pulling Edmund up the stairs, even as he burst with laughter.

However, his laughter soon died when Aria froze at the top of the stairs, and he saw the look of absolute awe on her face. The first floor of her tower was, of all things, a library.

The walls were bookshelves, sunk into the stone, grouped in pairs in between windows that were very nearly floor-to-ceiling. Each window had rectangular panes, and all the bordering panes were stained glass rose vines, with the middles panes shining and clear, letting in so much light that Aria could feel it warming her skin even as she stood in the center of the room. 

Every window was placed into the outermost span of the walls, so each had enough space for a seat at its base - and every sill was upholstered with a dark green velvet cushion, except one window, which was double the width of its fellows, and sported a full window seat. The cushion beneath it was plump enough that one could spend hours and hours sitting there, and was wide and deep enough that a nap could easily be taken. There were pillows on the seat as well, all in shades of green and gold, and all embroidered with rose vines.

Between two of the windows, on the side of the room that was closest to the castle, there sat a rosewood desk and an extremely comfortable-looking chair upholstered in dark, forest-green velvet and trimmed in gold and embroidered with golden rose vines with white roses. In the middle of the room, sat a sofa that could comfortably accommodate two people and two more armchairs, along with a rosewood chess table, complete with golden - actually golden chess pieces. There was also a thin round side table, also in rosewood (this was becoming a theme), atop which sat a beautifully crafted golden vase, filled with freshly cut roses in all colors - white and gold and red and pink, even a few that were more orange and at least two that were a red so dark as to be nearly purple.

A few of the bookshelves that lined the walls were empty, but many of them had quite a few books in them, and Aria's fingers itched to pull them from their resting places and read each and every one of them, but Pristine had other ideas. "Is it to your liking, my lady?" She asked. "I thought that green and gold might suit you, but we can always have the colors changed to whatever you wish."

Aria shook her head vehemently. "Oh no." She whispered. "No, it's - it's beautiful. Please, please don't change a thing." And, once again, she was treated to Pristine's flush of pleasure before the nymph ushered them up still another flight of stairs.

These were right next to the wooden ones the group had just ascended, but unlike those, these were a bronze-colored iron, the metal twisted and curved gracefully to look like vines that rounded upwards to the next floor.

Slowly, Aria climbed, as these slightly were just too narrow for Edmund to ascend at her side, and so he followed behind. This floor, the topmost room in the tower, was Aria's bedroom, and she instantly, unhesitatingly, fell in love with it.

It was done in the same greens and golds as the library beneath her, but with a greater accent of white. The stone walls were engraved with rose vines, each engraving lightly painted in the green and white of the true plants, and the windows had the very same stained glass as those below, but these were treated with white silk curtains. The fabric was embroidered with delicate rose vines, and hung from rods that matched the iron staircase.

On the far side of the room was her bed, also in rosewood. It wasn't overly large, but it was certainly the biggest bed that she had ever slept in. The bedclothes were silk like the windows, and were white but with only the edges embroidered in the delicate vines. Over the sheets was a forest green comforter, and like the velvet chairs in the library, it was embroidered in gold. The bed was also hung with white curtains, tied back to the tall posts with green silk ribbons. On the nightstands on both sides of the bed, stood golden candle holders, and vases that, though they matched the large one downstairs, were smaller but no less filled with gorgeous roses.

Off to one side of the room, beneath the windows, these shorter than their fellows, sat a rosewood vanity, atop which sat a golden mirror, not overly large, but enough that Aria's head and shoulders were easily in view. It was accompanied by a tray of assorted glass bottles, which Aria guessed to be an assortment of perfumes, a golden brush and comb set, and a small jewelry box. Though this box was not very large, it made up for this by being so ornate. Not only was it made of gold, it was engraved with large roses, both on its sides and on the lid. With the vanity sat a very comfortable-looking stool, also in rosewood and with a forest green velvet cushion.

Opposite the vanity, there was a wooden screen, also in rosewood, and this was engraved and painted just like the walls around it, with intricate vines and roses. This was pulled back slightly to reveal a bathtub made of rosewood was well. Next to this heavenly item stood a small table with held a tray much like the one on the vanity, and a small rosewood stool. Behind all of this was a fireplace, empty and cool now, with a screen in front of it that matched its larger partner.

As if these were not enough, in another recess between two of the longer windows, there stood a rosewood wardrobe, also engraved and painted, its doors shut to Aria's curious eyes. And, in the last expanse of wall, above what Aria judged to be the desk downstairs, there hung a gorgeously-embroidered tapestry all on forest green velvet and depicting, as Pristine told her, the white rose garden within Cair Paravel's walls.

In short, her tower room was absolutely, unequivocally, beautiful, and she would not have changed it for any other room in the castle - and she told Pristine so, who beamed with delight and revealed that she herself had overseen decorating it. "It was the least I could do, my lady." She said. "The Rose of Narnia deserves nothing less."

Aria shook her head, curious. "The Rose of Narnia?" She asked.

Pristine nodded, smiling sweetly at Aria. "Yes." She beamed, and gestured to Aria's white rose pendant. "You must know that is what all the Narnian's are calling you, my lady. We are all so grateful that you helped free us from the White Witch."

Aria did not know exactly how to feel about this newfound fame, but she did not have time to ask questions as Pristine shooed Edmund and his own nymph, whose name, Aria had learned, was Chestnut, out of the room so that Aria could have some privacy. On his way out, Edmund tugged Aria's braid and told her he'd be back to fetch her later, and then Aria was left in Pristine's hands.

It seemed that the nymph had not only been Aria's guide to her rooms, but she was also to be Aria's personal attendant. Aria balked at this for a moment, quite sure that she could take perfectly good care of herself, but the bright look in Pristine's eyes: of the great joy of helping, became abundantly clear. 

As much as Aria would have liked to have argued that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and that there was no need for the nymph to trouble herself, she knew that not only would it avail her nothing, but that it would also hurt Pristine's feelings. And so, she allowed herself to be fussed over, the nymph sitting her down in the vanity stool as she called for another attendant, who seemed to appear from nowhere.

Pristine introduced the newcomer as Amaryllis, another nymph who helped her in the rose gardens sometimes, but presided more over the regular flower gardens of the castle, of which there were two, plus the beds in the main courtyard. Amaryllis greeted Aria with a glowing smile, her blue eyes so dark that they were almost purple – and matched her flowing hair perfectly. The two twittered to themselves as they checked the temperature of the water in the wooden tub.

Finding it to their liking, the two mulled over the bottles on the ornate tray on the little table, finally selecting one that they liked – and Aria actually liked the feeling of not having to make a decision. She could smell the delicious scents from across the room each time one or the other of the nymphs had opened a bottle, and felt quite certain that she would have spent at least twenty minutes mulling each of them over – and then more than likely would have just mixed all of them into the bathwater.

As Amaryllis doctored the water in the tub, Pristine help Aria to undress, very careful of Aria’s injury, and jostling it far less than Aria would have done herself, before leading her to the tub and gently helping her into the water. The two really had gotten it just to the perfect temperature, and Aria felt her aching muscles immediately relax as she sank below its surface. The warm water smelled faintly of the rose scent that the two had decided on, the one with the hint of vanilla mixed with it, and Amaryllis had poured only just enough so that the smell would not be overpowering.

Since the two obviously knew exactly what they were doing, and Aria was still not supposed to move her arm very much (it was now propped up on the side of the tub with an extremely soft towel), Aria gave herself over to the nymph’s ministrations, and found that not only she, but the nymphs as well, enjoyed it immensely. Her hair was washed with rose scented soap, and then conditioned with the same scent, each time rinsed with warm water from a pitcher so that she never had to move her injured arm. A soft cloth was used to wash away the dirt and grime from the camp and the road, leaving her skin tingly and clean, and a small brush was used to clean underneath her fingernails.

When the two considered her sufficiently clean, Amaryllis helped her from the tub as Pristine wrapped her in the softest, fluffiest towel she had ever felt, leading her back to the vanity stool and proceeded with the task of combing out Aria’s long hair, although, whatever oil they had used as a conditioner seemed to have made it far less tangled than it would usually have been. As Pristine did this, Amaryllis checked Aria’s bandage before selecting a rose and vanilla scented lotion from the tray on the vanity and beginning to rub it into Aria’s arms.

All the time, the two debated over which gown they each though that Aria should wear, and feeling so entirely pampered and relaxed, Aria felt no need to put in her two cents worth – even if she had had the brain power at that moment to even think of something worth two cents. When the two had finally decided on one, Amaryllis seeming to have won the debate, she went to the wardrobe to find the selection while Pristine finished with Aria’s hair. Somehow, the nymph seemed to summon the warm spring breeze through the open windows of the tower, where it twisted into Aria’s wet hair, drying it faster that it would have on its own.

Then, apparently satisfied, Pristine allowed the breeze to die down, leaving Aria absolutely amazed with her jaw slack and her hair perfectly dry. Chuckling amusedly, the nymph pushed lightly on Aria’s jaw with a gentle fingertip. “It’s only a bit of nymph magic.” She explained. “You’re lucky the Western Wind seems to like you, or else he would not have been so accommodating.”

Aria nodded slowly, her fingers tentatively reaching up to touch her hairs, which had dried into nearly perfect waves. At a complete loss for anything else to say, she merely ventured, “Thank him for me.” And Pristine, still chuckling, said that she would. She then took a thick piece of Aria’s hair and braided it quickly, her nimble fingers dancing through the process that Aria had always found complicated and clumsy, fashioning it into a thick headband, which she flipped over the top of Aria’s head, and then secured to the opposite side with a blue silk ribbon.

As Aria thanked her as well, the strange event with ‘The Western Wind’ having brought her back to her senses, Amaryllis returned with the dress she had chosen for Aria. “It isn’t quite as fancy as Pristine would have chosen for you,” She explained. “But I thought it would do better for touring the palace this evening.”

And Aria smiled. Amaryllis was right, it was not fancy, and it would be perfect. The gown had a skirt of white with light gray diamond shapes embroidered about it in a scattered pattern, with an overskirt of light brown crisscrossed with a darker chocolate shade. The bodice was black and laced in front with dark brown ribbons, and at the top was a thin ruffle accent in a very light blue. The sleeves were the same light blue as the ruffle with a pattern that was so faint a light brown that it was hardly discernible, but as Aria studied it closely, she could just make out the roses and vines that were becoming so familiar. The sleeves themselves were loose until they cinched at the wrist, ending in very short ruffles that matched those atop the bodice. 

Once the nymphs had helped Aria dress, settling her arm back in a sling that now matched the lighter brown of the gown’s overskirt, they gave her a final once-over before pronouncing themselves satisfied, informing Aria that she looked beautiful and then Amaryllis left Aria to Pristine, disappearing almost as covertly as she arrived. Pristine then produced a pair of soft brown slippers for Aria’s feet, and then preceded her back down the iron staircase to her library, where, sitting comfortably in one of the chairs next the chessboard, Peter sat gazing about the room with obvious pleasure.

He stood when Aria descended, his eyes quickly checking over her ankle and wrist, needlessly making sure both were all right. "Well," He began, smiling at her and offering his hand down the last few steps. "I was going to apologize for your rooms being in a tower, but this seems to suit you."

Aria nodded fervently. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She exclaimed, taking his hand. "I do love it." Here, Pristine made her exit, curtseying lightly to Peter and waving off Aria's thanks. And now, Aria took in Peter's appearance. His golden hair was still slightly wet from his own bath and his dark grey tunic and soft white shirt looked very comfortable. Of course, contrary to Fircil's orders, Peter was not wearing his sling. "You look refreshed." She commented. "Were you fawned over as well?"

Peter chuckled. "No." He said, shaking his head, a lock of his drying hair tumbling into his eyes. "They pretty much left me to my own devices, thankfully. Ed too. It was only you girls they seemed to want to pamper. I hope it wasn't too unbearable?"

Aria sighed. "I hate to admit it," She said, her fingers automatically pushing his hair from his eyes. "But it was wonderful not to have to fight with my own hair for once. I don't think I could have managed to look half this presentable if they hadn't helped me. Not that I want to make it a habit, mind you." She said. 

Peter chuckled again, but at her playfully narrowed eyes, he quickly agreed, "Of course not." And Aria watched him for a moment, knowing that he was only a breath away from laughing at her, before smiling as well. "I think Susan will make a habit of it." He continued. "I think she's still getting pampered. I heard all three of them laughing as I stopped by to check on her, just before I was shooed away. Lucy's on her way, though, she just couldn't decide what she wanted to wear first." He grinned. "I doubt that you had that problem?"

Aria shrugged, careful of her arm. "They decided: I put it on." And Peter nodded, having expected this. 

He then led Aria to one of the armchairs, making sure she was comfortably settled before taking the chair opposite the chessboard. "Would you care to play while we wait for everyone?" He asked, smiling. "Everyone was to come here once they had 'refreshed' themselves, and I don't know how long everyone will be."

Aria nodded, very happy that the chair she sat in was the most comfortable thing she had ever relaxed into. "Why here?" she asked, however, as Peter spun the marble board so that she had the white pieces, which, now that she looked closely, were smooth white marble trimmed with gold, while the black pieces were gold and trimmed in white marble.

"It was my decision." He confessed, rather apologetically. "I didn't want you to have to tax your ankle too much. There's apparently going to be enough walking around today without you having to go back and forth too many times." He smiled as she moved her first pawn. "Susan and Lucy particularly wanted to see your room. Lucy especially thought that it was wonderful that you had your very own tower."

Aria nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with her now." She said, her fingers rubbing smoothly over the soft velvet of her chair, tracing the embroidery carefully. "It really is beautiful." Then she grinned. "And I have my own library!" She exclaimed, and Peter laughed.

"That's true." He said. "Even my study doesn't have this many bookshelves."

"You have a study?" Aria asked, and Peter nodded.

"Just down the hall from the Throne Room on the first floor." He said. "I'll show it to you when we head back down there. It's just off the dining room hall, too."

Aria paused, completely lost. "We have a throne room?" She asked, her head tilting slightly in question. 

"You just came straight up here, didn't you?" Peter smiled. And, at Aria's nod, he explained. "Yes, we have a throne room. It's the one with the large doors off the Entrance Hall. Just down from that, as I said, is my study. On the opposite side of the great hall is the dining room, and down two corridors are the kitchens."

"Down what corridors? Aria asked, not having noticed any of these when Pristine had led her up the grand white marble staircase earlier. It had been intricately carved and trimmed with real gold, and had been so beautiful that it had captured her entire attention.

But Peter indulged her. "They're just next to the staircase." He explained. "There is a door on each side. One, I'm told, leads to the kitchens and beyond that the servant's quarters. And the other leads through a series of halls to the back of the castle, where you can wander through the gardens and the courtyards, and even a hedge maze, if you were so inclined."

And, with that, he took Aria's castle with one of his bishops, effectively thwarting what had thought was a very subtle attack, and showing her that describing what he had learned of Cair Paravel was in no way affecting his chess skills. "Those hallways also lead to the stables and the training courtyards. And past those there is a pathway that leads down to the beach."

Aria was about to ask a few more questions, when she heard her name shouted from downstairs. There was a flurry of footsteps on the stone stairs, and Lucy suddenly appeared in the library, Edmund and Susan trailing behind her. "Oh Aria!" Lucy exclaimed, taking in the gorgeous library with wide, sparkling eyes. 

"It's beautiful!" Susan exclaimed, stopping to smell the roses in their golden vase. Edmund, having already seen Aria's tower, flopped onto the velvet couch, his expression rather bored. Lucy and Susan, however, milled about the library room, each taking in everything. "Oh!" Susan gasped, having looked out from the window seat. "You overlook the white rose garden! I'm so jealous!"

Aria went back to her game with Peter. "What do your rooms overlook, then?" She asked, another plan forming in her mind, one that she hoped would be sneakier than the last.

"Ours overlook the ocean." Susan explained, now taking a book down from its shelf and opening it carefully. "Both Lucy's and mine." 

Then Lucy gave a gasp of pleasure, having finally noticed the iron staircase leading up to Aria's bedroom. "Oh, may we go upstairs and look Aria?" She asked. "Please?"

Aria laughed. "Of course, you can." She said. "I'd show you around myself, but I'm about to beat Peter at chess." Peter, of course, scoffed as he tried to figure out a way to take her very active queen. Susan and Lucy both clamored up the staircase into Aria's bedroom, and the three downstairs could hear their coos of delight. "What do your rooms overlook?" Aria asked the boys, taking Peter's last castle calmly.

"Mine is over the training yards." Edmund said. "Already I can't wait to get back and try them out." He then jolted himself off the couch and went to one of the bookcases, flipping through a few of them and apparently trying to find one that interested him.

"And yours?" Aria asked Peter, whose fingers were holding his chin as he debated his next move. This, if it were the right one, would safely have her in check. "My rooms look over the training yards, too." He told her, moving his bishop into position. "But my study looks over the trellis rose garden. I'm told that the white garden and the trellis connect to each other, but we'll have to down and explore them to see how. Willow told me that the entrance to the White garden is hidden rather carefully. And, check, by the way."

Aria grinned, and sweetly took his bishop with the knight Peter had not noticed, effectively winning her the game. "Checkmate." She countered, and saw Peter's eyes widen slightly in disbelief.

"How did you-?" He exclaimed, examining the board closely, and then muttered that she was sneaky before grinning. "I should have known, I guess." He said. "Edmund beats me all the time, too. So does Susan."

Aria smiled, shrugging. "You caught my first attempt, at least." She conceded. "I almost expected you to catch this one, too. Maybe you just need to practice a bit more."

"Oh, please no more chess now!" Lucy exclaimed, skipping back down Aria's staircase. "I'd love to go exploring! Mr. Tumnus is waiting for us!"

Aria immediately began putting the chessboard back to rights. "We really shouldn't keep him waiting any longer." She agreed. "Besides, the sooner we finish the tour, the sooner we can have something to eat."

"Hear, hear!" Exclaimed Edmund, stuffing one of the books back on its shelf and immediately coming to Aria's side, offering his arm. "I always knew you were smart." He told her, grinning.

Under Peter's watchful eye, Edmund helped Aria from her chair and followed at they descended the stone stairs out of the tower after Susan and Lucy, who was trying her hardest to keep from skipping far ahead of them. 

The children made their way back down to the Entrance Hall at a much slower pace than Aria would have like, Peter making sure that the pace was not taxing Aria's ankle too much. She tried to explain to him that it was feeling much better, but he simply ignored her, as she knew that he would. "You know," She told him. "You won't be here tomorrow. And I'll more than likely go running around the castle."

Peter grinned. "As much as I highly doubt that," He conceded. "I wouldn't put it past you. That's why I'm going to try to get you to rest as much of today as possible."

Mr. Tumnus was, indeed, waiting for all of them by the huge doors to the banquet hall, which were open at the moment, and now Aria took the time to look around herself. The doors they now stood before were carved from a dark oak, and depicted a fighting Aslan on each door.

Aria could only guess that the closed doors opposite the banquet hall were the Throne Room that Peter had told her about. For, although they were closed at the moment, they were made of a gorgeous white wood, and were trimmed in gold and shining white marble. And, now that Aria noticed her surroundings, she could see the doors that Peter had told her about at the back of each side of the grand marble staircase. They were far subtler than the great doors of the halls, but each was carved just as intricately.

"I trust you all found your rooms acceptable?" Tumnus asked, smiling at them all, his red scarf securely about his shoulders. When each of them had agreed that they were wonderful, Lucy exclaiming again over Aria's tower library, the faun began the tour.

They started with the banquet hall, of course, and Aria was amazed that it was so large, though she found that she should not have been surprised. There were long tables down the sides of the room, both with benches on each side, and at the far end of the room, under beautiful stained-glass windows, sat another long table, this one raised onto a slight dais - only three steps higher than those at ground level - all effectively making a near-rectangle a leaving plenty of empty space between them. "Enough for dancing, should anyone feel so inclined." Tumnus explained.

He then pointed out the gallery above, where musicians could sit and not have to worry about being trampled by any dancers that might become too excited. "Or simply too clumsy." Aria pointed out, smiling.

After they left the banquet hall - not lingering so that they would not get in the way of preparations for that evening's banquet - Tumnus led them through the smaller door on the left of the grand staircase, explaining that venturing left once through the door would take them to the kitchens, which he did not dare show them at the moment. "Madame Luvris would have my head on a dinner fork." He half-joked, explaining that Madame Luvris was the Red Dwarf matron who was Cair Paravel's head cook, and ran the strictest kitchen in all of Narnia.

Turning right in the corridor, however, Tumnus led them through a series of door-lined hallways, explaining that these were the living quarters of the many Narnian's who were staying or working in the castle. Eventually, they came to a large wooden door, which Tumnus pushed open to reveal one of Cair Paravel's many courtyards.

This was, apparently, the South courtyard, and was paved in sand-colored stone. In the middle of the courtyard stood large well, its stone beautifully carved with pictures of mermaids and fish, of animals and other Narnian's. Its rim was wide enough to sit on, and it was shaded by a large oak roof, from which hung its customary drawing bucket.

The courtyard itself was lined with stone columns, all carved just like the well, and large trees, which provided cooling shade to the few benches that were scattered about. Through the opposite end of the courtyard, Tumnus stopped, mentioned that, if they went left, they would be able to tour the Training yards and stables, and beyond that the beach, and then could continue through the gardens and the hedge maze and out of the Northern Gate so that they could view the newly-planted apple orchard. Or, they could go to the right and pass the greenhouse, where Pristine and her helpers bred new roses, and then into the Trellis garden, and from there the White Rose garden.

Edmund, extremely uninterested in any of the gardens, chose to go straight to the training yards, and so left Aria to Peter, tugging on a lock of her hair as he went. Lucy wanted to go explore the hedge maze, and so dragged Tumnus with her, Susan following them with a grin that told Aria that she, too, loved the idea of puzzling out the maze.

Peter offered Aria his arm. "Shall we go and see if we can find this secret entrance?" He asked, and Aria nodded, smiling widely.

"I wonder if that would count as one of the twenty-three?" She mused, taking his arm and allowing him to lead her off to the right of the courtyard.

Peter shook his head. "I don't think so." He said, considering. "I think Aslan meant that all of them were inside the castle. Also, I don't think you could technically think of this as a passageway, more of just an entrance." And Aria nodded, agreeing with his logic. "Still," He grinned at her. "It should be a fun little adventure."

Aria nodded. "And probably the safest one we've had in days." She joked, careful not to squeeze his arm too hard with hers. She had not forgotten that his shoulder was still in stitches - even if Peter had decided to.

The two passed the greenhouse, which was smaller than Aria had at first imagined it. It was, of course, made of rosewood and clear glass, its roof dome-shaped and the whole building rounded into an oval. Peter pulled open the door carefully, checking to make sure that no one was inside before leading Aria in.

The scent hit her first, and Aria took a deep breath of the heated rose air. There had to be at least a hundred different kinds of roses in this greenhouse - all in different shades of reds and pinks, of burgundies and oranges, of pinks and purples. And there, off in a separate little room within the greenhouse, Pristine grew her white roses, and Aria could see their pure petals through the glass, although she dared not go in, lest she contaminate any of them with any of the darker rose's pollen.

Carefully, Aria leaned over to smell one of the dark burgundy roses, its rich scent so sweet and potent that it was almost like honey. "She really does create masterpieces." Aria commented, and heard Peter's murmur of agreement next to her. 

He had reached out with gentle fingers to caress one of the brighter reds, this one with the slightest flush of white at its base. How she can cultivate each one so exactly," He mused. "It really must be an exact science."

Aria nodded, and carefully examined one or two more of the roses before tugging Peter back towards the entrance. "Come on." She said. "I don't want to stir any of them up too much. I wouldn't want to ruin anything she's experimenting with at the moment."

And Peter agreed, shutting the door tight behind them once again and taking them both further down the soft dirt path to the rose gardens. The entrance to the trellis garden was just that - a huge rosewood trellis covered in climbing red roses. As Aria and Peter passed beneath it, they found themselves transported. The trellis garden was like a maze itself. Every corner you turned, everywhere around or above you, there were roses of all different colors, of all different scents. 

Here and there sat rosewood benches, each ornately carved and painted with rose vines that matched whichever color rose climbed above it - and sometimes even an adventurous vine would have wrapped itself around the bench has well. But - even as surrounded as they were, with so many layers upon layers of roses, the blooms never once blocked out any of the light. It was as bright within the terrace garden as it had been without.

After the two had explored for a while, Aria only casually searching for a secret entrance to the white garden, Peter stopped them and sat her gently on one of the benches. Holding his chin between his fingers, he looked around, trying to puzzle out the secret of the second garden. "There has to be a hint somewhere." He mused, pacing slightly as Aria contented herself with burying her nose in the closest rose to her.

As he paced, Peter's fingers deftly plucked one of the bright red roses by his shoulder, carefully picking off each of its thorns as he thought. "Maybe the roses get lighter as you get nearer to the entrance?" He asked Aria.

But she shook her head. "They're all mixed." She noticed. "There wasn't really one area that I noticed was lighter than any of the rest. The dark burgundies are everywhere."

Peter nodded. "True." He conceded, tapping the rose's petals against his lips and tilting his head in thought. After a moment, he looked at Aria, who was staring into a distant batch of roses, her fingers twirling her white pendant as she, too, tried to figure out the puzzle. Then, he noticed the bench behind her. The carved roses were a bright red that looked exactly like the ones he had studied in the greenhouse - the ones with the delicate white flush at their bases.

He then looked at the rose in his hand - which was also the same rose, and studied the vine he had pulled it from. The vine ran at shoulder-height, and led straight down the path to his left. His curiosity peaked, he studied the vine's beginnings, and noted that it grew only in that one direction. It started here, in front of its bench, and followed a straight line, moving neither up towards the overhead vines or down back into the ground.

"I think I may have found the way." He said, handing the rose he held to Aria and offering her his hand once more.

Aria accepted the rose deftly, her head shaking slightly in amazement. "How?" She asked. "We haven't moved yet." And Peter pointed out the red and white rose vine, grinning as she gasped in pleasure. "Oh, you're so smart!" She exclaimed, pulling him along and she took his suggestion to follow where it led them.

Peter shook his head, though, even as he let her lead them. "It was luck, really." he explained modestly. "We don't even know yet if it's right." But Aria only smiled at him. They had come to the end of the leading vine, only to find a whole slew of the very same vines hanging from the top of their trellis. "It does look rather suspicious, now that you look at it properly." He viewed. They had passed this way once before and he had not noticed that these vines were any different from the others that surrounded them. 

Aria, clutching the rose he had given her in the fingers of her injured arm, began to sweep the vines to the side. "Careful!" Peter cautioned. "There could be thorns. I wouldn't want you to get cut." 

But Aria ignored him, and continued sweeping the vines away, revealing the carved wooden door beneath them. "Oh Peter!" She exclaimed, dropping the vines in her haste to throw her good arm around his neck. "You found it!"

Peter hugged her to him briefly with his own good arm before releasing her. "Well?" He asked. "What are you waiting for? We found it, let's go in!" Laughing merrily, Aria turned back to the hidden door, and was just about to sweep the vines away once more when they heard their names shouted by an all-too-familiar voice.

"Peter!" Lucy cried as she raced into the garden. "Aria! Mr. Tumnus says that it's time for dinner!"

Aria sighed and let the vines fall back into place. "I guess that it will have to wait until you get back." She said. "I don't think I'll be able to just peek in quickly."

Peter chuckled, taking her arm in his as Lucy found them. "I should guess not." He agreed. And the two allowed Lucy to shoo them back out of the trellis garden and into the open air, where Mr. Tumnus was waiting to take them all back up to the castle - Susan and Edmund had gone ahead.

"Susan wanted to brush her hair again before dinner, and Edmund wanted to see if he could sneak anything to eat before anyone else got there." Lucy explained, commandeering Aria's hand from Peter and pulling her back up towards the castle.

Peter reminded her softly to be careful of Aria' ankle as he and Mr. Tumnus fell into stride behind the girls.


	19. A Story Yet to Be Told

Chapter Nineteen: A Story Yet to Be Told

Once they had reached the castle once more, Aria's ankle was hurting her far more than she was willing to admit, but Peter could tell by the faintest line between her brows. Softly, he asked Mr. Tumnus if there was a shorter way to the banquet hall. Nodding, the faun took the lead and Peter gently commandeered Aria from Lucy once more, wrapping a secure arm about her waist.

Aria raised a questioning eyebrow, to which Peter replied, "I may not be able to carry you at the moment," He told her. "But I can give you a little support. You've been walking far too much today." Of course, she opened her mouth to argue but Peter merely shook his head, his eyes telling her that any argument she might have made wasn't going to do her any good.

So, she merely nodded, and accepted his help. He was right, of course, her ankle was shooting sharp pains up her shin with every step she took on it now, and she knew that the uphill climb from the trellis garden had taxed it more than she should have done today.

"The maze is amazing Aria!" Lucy was saying, having taken little notice of the former conversation in her excitement. "It took us nearly forever to get to the middle of it, and oh you should see it! There's a fountain there, and it's the most beautiful fountain I've ever seen! It's all carved white and blue marble, it just sparkles in the sunlight!"

"That really does sound just lovely." Aria said, smiling down at the little girl. "You'll have to take me there tomorrow. Maybe we could have a picnic?"

Lucy eyes lit up even more, if that were possible, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Oh!" she cried. "Do you think we could? That's a wonderful idea!"

Aria nodded. "I don't see why not." She said. "And, afterwards, we'll start exploring the castle for all of those secret passageways."

Peter smiled as well. "You'll just have to make sure that she doesn't tax herself too much, Lu." He cautioned. "I'm putting you in charge of her while Ed and I are gone, and you'll have to keep a close eye on her, since she's not exactly one inclined to follow the rules."

Aria scoffed lightly, sending a rueful smile his way, tapping the rose he had given her against her chin. "And which one of us is the one that isn't wearing the sling that Fircil ordered us to keep on at all times?" She looked pointedly at his injured shoulder, and then back up into his eyes. "I believe that would be you." She said, tapping his chest gently with the rose.

Peter shrugged lightly. "So, I'm slightly a hypocrite." He conceded. "That doesn't make me wrong, now does it?"

Aria bit the inside of her lip. "It should." She mumbled, and Lucy laughed.

"I'll take good care of her, Peter." His sister promised. "Trust me, she'll be better in no time!"

They were just now passing by the door to Peter's study, and he pointed it out briefly, promising Aria that he would show it to her after dinner. Then, following Tumnus, they rounded the next corner and found themselves in the entrance hall, where a large crowd had gathered outside the closed banquet hall doors.

Making their way to the front, ushered on by Tumnus, the three found Susan and Edmund standing with Aslan. "Ah." The lion smiled. "Here they are, at last."

Aria smiled softly, ducking her head slightly. "It was my fault." She said. "I'm sorry if we've kept everyone waiting."

But Aslan merely shook his head. "There is no fault, little Rose." He told her, his smile growing. "In fact, you made better time than I had thought that you would." Then, the great Lion spoke to the entire gathered crowd. "Narnians," He began. "Yesterday, the battle at the Fords of Beruna won us a great victory. Working together, we have defeated the White Witch and her armies, and each one of you should be proud to have played a part in that triumph.

"But our trials are not yet over." He continued, his voice calming even in its fervor. "For many of us, this night at Cair Paravel will be short, for we will leave tomorrow at dawn to find and release those of your fellow Narnians who are still trapped under the remnants of the Witch's curses, and to make certain that there will be no uprising of those who still follow her.

"But tonight, let us set aside tomorrow's worries, so that we may rejoice in our victory, and remember our brethren who so bravely gave their lives in hopes of a brighter future - a future that is clear on our horizon and very much within our full grasp. Tonight, let us share in each other's joys and in the hospitality of Cair Paravel. I welcome all here to share my table!" And, with that, the great doors opened behind Aslan, and a cheer arose among the Narnian's gathered in the Entrance Hall.

As Aria and Peter moved into the banquet hall, his arm still firmly at her waist, she fought to take in everything before her. The hall, of course, was just as huge as it had been earlier, and the tables just as long, but in the two hours that the children had been exploring the grounds, it had been absolutely transformed.

The tables were all draped in red cloth, each bearing Aslan's golden fighting lion sigil. Around the room hung banners of the same, and everywhere there were garlands of roses of the same two-tone shade that Aria held in her fingertips. Atop the tables sat a feast the likes of which none present, save perhaps Aslan himself, had never seen before. There were soup tureens, large bowls of salads, fruit plates, cheese platters, baskets full of breads, plates of steaming vegetables, and meat dishes ranging everywhere from pork to chicken to fish.

The smells that permeated the hall were so delicious that Aria's mouth had begun to water immediately, and she could feel a slight ache in her stomach as if it were reaching for the food. Carefully, Peter helped her up the three dais steps to the high table Aslan had led them to, where one of the healer Fircil's apprentices was waiting for them.

"I have the Lady Aria's seat ready." The faun beamed, leading the two to a chair near the middle of the table. "There is already a stool set up for your ankle."

Peter thanked him and gently handed Aria into the chair, taking the seat next to her and watching carefully as she gratefully maneuvered her foot onto the provided cushion. Smiling at her, he asked, "Better?"

Aria playfully furrowed her brow at him. "I would have been fine." She stated stubbornly, but he could tell by the way her shoulders relaxed slightly that putting the foot up had, indeed, instantly eased some of her pain.

"Of course, you would have." Edmund teased, commandeering the seat on Peter's left and grabbing a large roll from the breadbasket nearest him as he sat. "You'd have walked here all the way from Aslan's camp this morning if only to have appeased your stubbornness."

Aria heard Susan's musical chuckle as she took the seat next to her younger brother. "That sounds rather like the pot calling the kettle black, Ed." She countered, smiling broadly at Aria from around the two boys. Aria smiled back conspiratorially in thanks before settling back in her chair and brushing the petals of her rose under her nose.

She inhaled the light, sweet scent for a long moment, content for the others to fill their plates first as she gave her ankle a few moments to cease the worst of its throbbing. Instead, she kept one entertained ear on Susan and Edmund's lighthearted jibes and swept her eyes across the other tables in the hall.

The faces around her held many of the same expressions: proud and joyful mixed with the slight stiffness of muscles that belied a near bone-weariness. After all, the battle had only been yesterday morning, a testament to her own sore muscles and taxed injuries. Coupled with the day-long journey they had undertaken to this paradise, it was no wonder that many were already yawning over their soup tureens.

She fought against a sympathetic yawn herself as a plate was settled in front of her, Peter switching her own empty trencher for his and beginning to fill it as he grinned and declared that, though he and Edmund were outnumbered, he still had to side with Susan's logic.

Catching his sharp eyes and smiling in thanks, she carefully set her rose down next to the gifted plate and took up her fork with her good hand, eager to dig into the first real food she'd had in days. Spearing a tender slice of the pork Peter had thoughtfully cut for her, she mildly wondered how all Narnian's weren't vegetarians, since many of the animals she'd met so far were capable of speech. However, by the multitudes of protein options available to the diners in the hall, it would seem there were animals and there were Animals.

These thoughts might have puzzled her longer had Lucy not excitedly turned the course of her attentions. "Do you really think we'll be able to find all of the secret passageways before Peter and Edmund come back?" She wondered excitedly to Susan and Aria. "There are twenty-seven of them."

"I think it depends of how long the boys will be away." Susan mused. "And just how thorough our search is."

Edmund laughed. "I think that all three of you will get too distracted by the gardens and whatnot that you'll completely forget about them." He predicted. "You'll be lucky if you find five!"

"Oh, we will find all of them." Aria promised, grinning at her fellow searchers. "And when the two of you get back, you'll be begging us to tell you where half of them are so that we won't be able to sneak up on you quite as often."

"Which, of course, we will never divulge." Susan conspired, grinning back at the older girl before the shared look dissolved into soft giggles.

Peter shook his head as the girls returned to their dinners. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see when we get back, Ed." He commiserated before digging into his own plate. "Time will decide one way or another."

"Well said, Peter." Came the approving voice of their host from across the table, and the group paused their meals to receive the Great Lion. "Wise words that we all should remember."

Peter flushed as all eyes turned to him, but Aria marked the slight change in his posture as his shoulders settled a bit straighter with pleasure at Aslan's approval.

It had been well said, Aria noted. Fair and wise and realistic, tinged with leanings of hope in his tone for his brother's sake. And Aria could not help her own encouraging smile as the unbidden thought of 'He'll make such a fine king.' drifted across her mind.

Aslan seemed to smile as well, his large amber eyes creasing at the corners. He gave the eldest Pevensie a moment to savor his surprise accomplishment before continuing. "I'll not keep you from your meals long." He promised. "I was merely curious how the five of you found your tours of Cair Paravel this afternoon. I hope you found your new home to your liking."

At this, Aria could practically feel Lucy's excited smile from four seats away, so great was the little girl's joy. "Oh, it's wonderful!" She gushed, her bright eyes alight with glistening elation. "It's like something out of a story!"

The Lion chuckled, his eyes equally as bright as his subject's. "Precisely, Lucy." His approval was radiant and tender, and Aria could almost feel it warming her skin from across the table as his eyes rested over each human in turn. "This is where each of you will write your story - one of many, I'm certain. And with those stories, each of you will shape Narnia's history. Your new home is merely the setting."

Aslan's motivation was infectious, and Aria could feel the corners of her own mouth stretch into a smile that she would not be surprised should it match Lucy's grin. Of their own accord, her fingertips fell to the velvety petals of the rose next to her plate, and before her eyes drifted the promised secret of the door to the white rose garden. And in a moment of mystifying certainty, she knew that it would be a part of her story.

She looked down at the simple flower, it's gentle fragrance wafting through the stronger scents of the savory dishes around her to reach her nose, as if to validate her vision. Marveling at this, she looked back up at the Lion to find his kind eyes smiling back into hers. And suddenly, she felt a calming clarity wash over her.

It didn't matter that she didn't know what her role in Narnia was. That unlike the four Pevensie's, she didn't have a prophecy spelled out to advise her of what she was supposed to be doing here. It mattered only that she was here, that she was open to the hope and possibility of mystery and discovery.

After giving them all another moment to absorb his words, Aslan nodded to the group before moving away to check on the next group of Narnians, continuing the duties of an attentive host.

Watching him go, Aria basked in her excitement before a sharp throb in her ankle pulled her back to the table. Wincing slightly, her fingers left the rose and picked up her fork once more. She gingerly shifted her ankle upon the stool and felt the newly forming scab at the worst of the tooth punctures pull slightly as she did. Now that her only real distraction was the delicious food in front of her, the pain in her ankle was encroaching upon the forefront of her mind.

Determined not to make a fuss after all her earlier stubbornness, she made an effort to focus on the conversation around her instead, finding that she was missing the beginnings of a very well-spun tale that Lucy had begged from the indulgent Mr. Tumnus. Focusing on the faun's measured tones helped a bit, but it was not enough to capture her full attention. Soon, she could swear to feeling every heartbeat pulse through her ankle like it was being kicked from the inside.

"-don't you think, Aria?" Came Susan's voice from a few seats away. Aria blinked, her mind having drifted back to her pain and unable to recall the current conversation.

Shaking her head slightly, she smiled apologetically at her new friend. "I'm sorry, Susan. I must be more tired than I thought." She excused. "What was the question?"

The look in the girl's sharp eyes told Aria that Susan did not for one moment believe that her distraction was based solely upon lagging energy. "I was suggesting that it might be time for Peter and Edmund to start thinking about retiring, since we've had such a busy day and they should be leaving rather early in the morning tomorrow." She explained. "And I thought you might agree that Peter should allow Fircil to take a look at his shoulder. In fact, I believe that both of you should allow yourselves to be looked after before bed."

"I will certainly do so, My Queen." Came Fircil's no-nonsense tones from behind the group, and Aria and Peter turned in unison to see that the Centaur had somehow snuck up behind them. "As soon as you have finished supper Your Majesty, My Lady, I would like to examine how the mending is progressing for each of you."

Aria watched as Peter nodded, noting that the furrow between his brows had deepened upon twisting his shoulder to acknowledge the healer. "Of course, Fircil." He agreed. "But I insist that you see to Aria first. My shoulder shouldn't take long, and she has more injuries to look after."

As he mentioned his shoulder, he shrugged it slightly for emphasis, and Aria saw his jawline twitch slightly. Realizing that the eldest Pevensie was in just as much pain after the day's activities as she was, Aria decided to put her foot down - figuratively. "Peter," She admonished, gently touching the arm of his tunic with her good hand. Once she had his attention, she continued. "You've been taking care of me all afternoon. Now it's your turn to be looked after."

But Peter was just as stubborn as she. "I'm not the one who's been walking up and down hills on a sprained ankle." He argued.

She felt her eyebrow raise as she began her counter argument. "But you are the one who hasn't been wearing the sling that the doctor ordered, hypocrite." She said this last with a smile that he attempted to answer with a goodhearted scowl. "Besides, I'm going to be spending the next week in the lap of luxury that is our new home while I heal, but you will be on the road sleeping in hammocks and possibly doing more fighting." Her fingers tightened on his sleeve with the vehemence that she wasn't about to lose this argument. "I wouldn't dream of allowing you to waste your only night of real walls and a real bed - with proper medical care. Please use it."

Peter looked as if he wanted to remain stubbornly reluctant for a moment longer before she watched his shoulders ease. With a detrimental smile, he nodded his agreement. "All right." He conceded. "I can't argue with you when everything you say makes such good sense." Then his warm hand moved to cover hers, which she only now realized still rested on his arm. "At least let me take you back up to your room, though." He offered. "You have quite a lot of staircases to climb."

"Don't worry, Your Majesty." Came a lyrical voice, and again the group was surprised by sudden newcomer to the area around their table. With a soft gust of rose-scented air, Pristine appeared next to Aria's chair as if from nowhere. "I'll make sure that the Lady Aria is well taken care of." She promised, the eager, helpful glint back in her rosy eyes.

Aria grinned thankfully at the Nymph before turning back to Peter. "I'm in good hands." She assured him. "You go and get yourself taken care of."

He nodded and squeezed her hand before rising from his seat. With hers still on his arm, he was kind enough to lend her his support as she slowly rose to her feet as well, her ankle throbbing in protest as it left the cushioned stool. Reluctantly, Peter relinquished Aria's arm to the Nymph at her side before turning to wish each of his siblings a fond good night. After their echoed wishes had finished, he turned back to Aria and wished her pleasant dreams before following the healer from the table.


	20. A Nervous Apprentice

Chapter Twenty: A Nervous Apprentice

As Aria watched Peter leave the hall, Pristine squeezed her elbow gently. "Are you ready, My Lady?" She inquired gently.

The girl nodded appreciatively, smiling at the Nymph. She then settled her eyes on the three remaining Pevensie siblings who had gone back to their meals. "Good night." She grinned. "I'll see you all in the morning."

There were echoes of the sentiment back to her, Lucy's accompanied by a lively grin and tired eyes, Susan's with a searching look that made sure her friend was to be well looked-after, and Edmund's nearly indecipherable around a mouthful of meat.

Gently plucking her gifted rose from the table, Aria then began the long trek out of the Hall and towards her rooms. From the first step, she found that she was extremely grateful for Pristine's support, leaning heavily into the Nymph's side as each tentative step on her injured ankle sent shooting pains up her calf. "Thank you for coming to get me, Pristine." She told the Nymph as they neared the doors of the Hall. "I'm afraid my stubbornness got the best of me today."

Her attendant grinned and squeezed her arm again. "That can happen to the best of us, My Lady." She said, gently stopping their forward progress as a great tray was navigated through the doors ahead of them. Holding the tray was a dwarf whose face, though nearly as ruddy as her hair, was charming.

She stopped as she saw the pair, her biceps flexing as she stopped the heavy tray's forward momentum with ease. "Not staying for dessert, are you?" She grinned, nodding to the huge cake sitting upon the tray. It looked absolutely tempting, the smooth white icing decorated with a waterfall of slivered almonds, and Aria grinned, forgetting herself and attempting a step towards the offer of deliciousness.

When she came down on her injured foot, however, the sharp pain reminded her why she was leaving the meal early, and she was again glad of Pristine's support at her side. The Nymph translated that girl's sharp inhale of pain for the dwarf - who had to be the kitchen mistress that Mr. Tumnus had mentioned earlier.

"I'm afraid that the Lady Aria's injuries are beginning to take their toll this evening, Madame Luvris." Pristine explained, confirming Aria's suspicions. "Fircil has instructed that she retires to her rooms for more care."

The dwarf's sharp eyes took in Aria's strained features and nodded sharply. "An excellent idea." She agreed, and then grinned up at the girl with a twinkle. "I'll just have to send some up to you, won't I?" She then adjusted the weight of the tray and began to make her way around the pair.

Aria watched her go with an answering grin, resisting Pristine's pull to continue. "Would you mind sending some to Peter as well?" The girl asked, remembering that he, too, was missing dessert in favor of medical treatment. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss such a treat."

"As you say, My Lady." The dwarf agreed, declining to look back in favor of hauling her load towards the high table.

Then, leaning heavily into Pristine's support, the two finally made it out of the Hall. Aria grimaced as she faced the great marble staircase ahead of them. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble." She apologized to the Nymph. "A person should be able to walk on their own two feet."

Pristine grinned at her, her eyes sympathetic to her ward's wish for independence. "I'm sure that after a good night's rest in a real bed, your will be much healed, My Lady." She assured.

"I hope so." Aria wished. "There are too many flights of stairs to navigate with only one healthy ankle." And as they approached the staircase, she took a fortifying breath and allowed Pristine to help her ascend. "So," She continued, hoping to distract herself from the arduous task of walking. "How did you come to care for the castle rose gardens? Peter and I visited your greenhouse earlier, and it's absolutely stunning."

She saw a pale pink blush form in the Nymph's cheeks at her praise. "Roses and I have always had a special affinity." She returned. "I was the last child born of a great rose bush deep in the Owlwood before the Long Winter. With my gifts, I managed to keep many species of winter roses alive, but I was forced to keep them hidden and secret for fear that the White Witch would find and destroy them forever."

Aria watched her in sympathy, squeezing her arm in emotional support as much as the Nymph's was supporting her physically. "How did you manage it?" She asked.

Pristine's smile wavered, caught on hard memories. "I didn't." She answered as they reached the top of the great staircase. Aria might have breathed a sigh of relief to be done with the first ascent, but her focus was now solely on her companion. Pristine continued as she led Aria down the corridor. "I fell unlucky prey on one of her random visits to the woods. She caught me tending to my charges one afternoon and made me watch as she froze all of my work in solid ice before freezing me in stone where I stood."

Aria stopped dead in the middle of their trek, Pristine slipping from her grasp before arresting her momentum. When the Nymph turned back to her charge, it was to find shining tears in the hazel eyes. "That's horrible." Aria breathed. "Pristine I-" Her voiced caught for a moment before she could continue, feeling a stinging tear leak out of her eye. "I'm so sorry."

But Pristine's smile, though not as strong as it had been before Aria's questioning, was still stretched across her lips. "Hope was not lost, Lady Aria." She assured the girl. "The moment Queen Lucy arrived in Narnia, Aslan returned to the land. And as he was gathering his followers, he found me in the midst of the wood and restored me from the Witch's spell. I awoke to find that one rose, though heavily damaged and unable to blossom, had survived the ice."

Her smile grew as she remembered. "Since I have no affinity for battle, I was one of the first Aslan sent here to prepare for the arrival of the foretold kings and queens. As it was still in the midst of winter, there was not much that we Nymphs could accomplish, but we were able to begin our plans for the end of the frost. Throughout, I kept the damaged rose with me, hoping that when summer came it might return to its glory." Here, Pristine paused, and Aria watched as a light began to form in her dusky eyes. "It was not until you first set foot in Narnia that the rose healed, as if it were waiting for you, My Lady. I felt it awaken, and watched it bloom before my eyes."

She stepped closer to Aria once more, her warm fingers wrapping around the hand that still held the flower that Peter had given her. She gently raised Aria's hand until it was between them, her smile beaming as she beheld it. "This rose." She revealed. "It is proof that even amid ultimate despair, hope can take many forms - that hope must endure to light the way ahead. The Hope Rose was the first to return to Narnia, the only one to endure despite incredible hardship and certain destruction. It embodies the hope of all who have endured to see this victory."

Aria's eyes were entranced anew by the rose in her fingers, each petal soft and perfect before her, and felt the weight of it in her hand. It was so simple, and yet much more than just a beautiful flower. "I will treasure them." She promised the Nymph, dragging her eyes up from the rose to meet her companion’s. "And I will treasure everything they represent."

Pristine's answering smile shone bright as she nodded and released Aria's hand, taking up her elbow again instead and gently steering Aria down the corridor once more. When they reached the second set of stairs, Aria decided that she would try a lighter subject to serve as her new distraction.

"Are there any new roses that you're experimenting with now?" She asked, wincing as her ankle protested violently to more stairs.

Her companion was only too happy to latch onto this new line of questioning, describing a peach colored rose that had popped into her mind, begging to be created by the Nymph. Aria latched onto Pristine's details of which colors she had attempted to cross-breed so far in her quest for the illusive bloom, happy that her companion now had something happier on her mind, and relieved that the conversation, though one-sided, got her through another flight of stairs.

Reaching the third-floor landing meant that there was only one flight of stairs between her and a comfortable chair, and only two left before a real, heavenly bed. By this time, her ankle was screaming at her with each step they took, even though Pristine was doing her best to take the weight of Aria's right side.

The rose growing lesson abated, leaving the two quiet, and Aria could not find on another subject through the pain any longer. Biting her lip fiercely, she locked her eyes on the stone floor in front of her and focused her mind on placing one foot in front of the other.

Sensing her distress but unwilling to quicken their pace for fear of further taxation, it was Pristine's turn to find a new subject. "Were you able to discover the secret door to the White Rose Garden, My Lady?" She asked, hoping that requiring her charge to speak might help distract her from the distance they still had to travel.

Aria smiled tensely as she remembered the joy of discovering the hidden door with Peter earlier that evening. "We did." She affirmed. "Peter and I found the trail and we were about to explore before we were called away for dinner."

Pristine beamed. "I can't wait for you to see it." She said excitedly. "It's my favorite creation."

Aria made a slight sigh of relief as the door to her tower came into view. "I'm looking forward to seeing your masterpiece." She said, her smile growing into a grin as she watched the pleasure on the Nymph's face. "But I hope you won't mind if I wait until Peter returns to enter it. We found it together, and I wouldn't feel right beginning my explorations without him there to enjoy it, too."

The Nymph's smile turned soft, and she paused slightly before assuring the girl that she didn't mind at all. "If you wish, you are welcome to visit the white bloom section of the greenhouse." She offered. "It's nowhere near as magnificent as the garden itself, but the roses there are quite lovely, if I do say so myself."

"I may just take you up on that." Aria said as they finally reached the door. Pausing to steel herself once more, she mentally assured her ankle that this was the last bit of torture before a nice long rest in a comfortable chair. When her companion asked if she was ready for the final push, she nodded and the two began their way up the final flight of stairs.

When they entered the library above, Aria was struck again by just how beautiful it was. Pristine had obviously already been up here preparing for her return, as the candles were already lit, giving the room an inviting glow that welcomed the pair. Pristine then proceeded to deposit Aria gently onto the sofa, allowing the girl to maneuver her ankle onto the soft cushions beside her with deep sigh of absolute relief.

Whilst her ward was recovering, Pristine flit up the iron stairs to Aria's bedroom to retrieve the nightclothes that she'd previously laid out on the bed. Upon returning to the library, she gently helped Aria back to her feet, and together the pair divested the injured girl of her gown, careful not to jostle her forearm too much, lest it, too, decide to beg as much attention as her ankle. When she offered Aria the new nightdress, the girl paused in awe, amazed that such a thing of beauty was only going to be slept in.

It was made of a soft, gauzy, flowing fabric in a creamy shade of off-white, delicately embroidered with roses expertly stitched in thread of a matching shade. The sleeves were long, seeming to end at her wrists without being too tight to sleep in comfortably, and began just off the shoulders of the nightgown. Aria looked at the Nymph in awe as her fingers tangled in the divine-feeling skirts. "This is absolutely gorgeous, Pristine." She gushed and was rewarded with a grin.

"My belief, My Lady," She explained, laying Aria's day gown carefully over one of the opposite armchairs. "Is that if you go to bed wearing something beautiful, you are sure to awaken feeling so yourself the next morning."

Aria nodded and began pulling the flowing skirts over her head. "I'm inclined to agree with you." She agreed, her voice muffled within the fabric. With only one good arm to wrestle with, she very quickly became stuck in the draped folds. "Wearing something like this, I can't imagine not feeling elegant - even when you're unconscious." She heard Pristine's chuckle next to her, and the Nymph helped her tug the nightgown into place, freeing Aria's tousled head.

Aria could not help her grin of pleasure as the fabric settled around her. It was definitely the most comfortable textile she'd ever felt and felt just as pleasant against her skin as it was divine to look at. But the Nymph was not done with her yet, and produced a dressing gown that very nearly put the nightdress to shame. It was made of a deep red and gold brocade that tied at the waist with a thick matching sash. The sleeves of the dressing gown were also rich brocade, but in a dark golden color that nearly danced in the room's fiery candlelight. They were tapered about the upper arms, but fell away at the elbows to brush elegantly past Aria's knees.

When the sash was tightened, Pristine set a clean white sling in place over her shoulder once more, allowing Aria to slide her wrist through it, and gave her ward a once over, deeming her clothing sufficient before allowing her to resume her seat on the small couch behind her. Again, Aria maneuvered her ankle back to the cushions beside her, her fingers plucking at the heavy fabric of her dressing gown with appreciation.

Pristine gently took up Aria's day gown and began to ascend to her bedroom once more. Before she had fully disappeared, however, there came a loud but courteous knock at the lower door to the tower. Amazed that either Fircil might have finished tending to Peter so quickly - or that their own trek to her rooms had taken so much longer than she'd realized, Aria called out a greeting of "Come in!" in the direction of the stone stairwell.

Aria heard the door open below as the Nymph finished her roundabout up towards Aria's bedroom, followed by the unmistakable sharp clack of hoofprints up the stone steps. It was not Fircil who appeared, however, but a rather sweet-faced Faun with a look in her large, brown eyes, that was almost catatonically nervous. When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped, staring at the young girl who watched her curiously from the couch.

After a long moment, Aria surmised that the Faun wasn't going to be the one to speak first, and so she greeted the newcomer gently, hoping to ease the look of nervousness in her large eyes. "Hello." She began, smiling sweetly. "Who might you be?"

The Faun started so violently that the bag she was clutching within her hands sprang to the floor, loosing quite a few bottles and a large amount of gauze across the luxurious forest rug at her feet. "Oh!" She gasped, shoving her shaking hands though a mop of short golden-brown hair and falling to her knees. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Ignoring the throbbing of her ankle, Aria was by the Faun's side only a moment later, helping scoop up wandering bottles. The Faun's fingers got tangled as she scooped up a good bit of the gauze, and she fought to free them by stuffing the fabric back into the errant bag. Aria smiled sympathetically and carefully placed the bottles she had rescued on the floor next to her knee before moving her fingers to help divest the Faun of the tangled gauze. "Here," She said, her hands stopping the frantic movements of the girl next to her. "Let me help with that."

No sooner had she removed the fabric, however, then there came a wave of disapproval from the stairs above the two. "What in all of Narnia is going on down there?" Pristine demanded, glaring at the pair for only a moment longer in order to get her point across before hastily making her way back down the iron steps. As she approached, Aria carefully placed the bottles back in the Faun's bag as well before gently closing and handing it back to her.

Shakily, the Faun took it with a nod of thanks, and Aria suppressed a small sigh. 'So much for not wanting to startle the poor thing', she thought, and began to get back to her feet. Pristine was at her side before she could put any of her own weight on her ankle, however, and guided her back to the couch before rounding on the Faun. "Brettaine," She snapped, her tone much sharper than Aria would have approved of. "I assume you're here to care for the Lady Aria's injuries - not tax them further by making her roll around on the floor?" The Nymph's hands were at her hips, and her rosy eyes held a disapproving glare that could have stripped paint.

The Faun - Brettaine - clutched her bag to her chest as she rose to her feet once more. "Y-yes." She stuttered, not meeting Pristine's eyes. "F-fircil sent me to check on the R-Rose's wounds." Her doe-like eyes flit to Aria's form and away again just as quickly. "H-he sends his apologies that h-he won't be able to m-make it himself this evening."

Aria's smile, which had been gently directed at the nervous creature in sympathy, slipped slightly. "Are the steps up here too difficult for him?" She queried, concerned that her tower room might be rudely inaccessible to the healer. Worried that this might be the case, she instead offered, "If you'd prefer that he look at my ankle instead, Brettaine, I can go back downstairs to make things easier for him."

"You do no such thing!" Came Pristine's deadpan, even as the Faun slightly forgot her nervous tendencies to assure, "Oh, no, My Lady!" Apparently, the thought of her new patient taxing herself further that evening was enough to shake Brettaine out of most of her awe and terror. "No," She continued, taking a step closer to the couch that Aria took as a good sign. "The stairs to your library are spaced well enough that a Centaur can maneuver them just fine, My Lady. The stairs to your rooms are, perhaps, less so." And here she paused to eye the slim iron rose vines for a long moment, seeming to gather herself before going on.

"F-fircil is still with King Peter." She explained. "Unfortunately, since he wasn't wearing his sling for most of the afternoon, he has irritated the stiches in his shoulder wound. M-my master is attempting to calm the irritation and determining if the K-king needs any further care for the wound."

Aria shook her head. "That poor hypocrite." She murmured, before returning her attention to the Faun. "I'm sure Fircil is exactly where he's needed most." She said, trying to let Brettaine know that she didn't mind being cared for by the apprentice instead of the master. "Now, is there anything I can do to help you?" She offered.

Brettaine simply blinked at her, stunned. "N-no, My Lady?" She wavered. "I-I'm here to help you."

Pristine huffed and moved to take the Faun's arm. "Then you'd best hurry along with it, and stop standing here like a jittering mouse." She commanded, propelling Brettaine's feet closer to Aria's couch. "The sooner you've seen to her injuries, the sooner I can get her up into bed so that she can get a restful night's sleep."

As the apprentice healer approached her, Aria made sure that her smile was as kind as she could make it. The poor thing was obviously as shy as a daylily flower in the middle the night, and Pristine's annoyance wasn't going to help matters. It was up to her try to make Brettaine feel more comfortable, and thought it likely that if she got her to focus more on her task than the people in the room things might go a bit smoother.

"I'm afraid I might have driven my ankle too hard today." She grinned, glad that neither Peter nor Edmund were present to hear her admit it. "It started throbbing terribly during dinner, and there's some sharp pain if I stretch it too much this way." She demonstrated pointing her foot gently, for the first time that day not fighting the wince that followed as Brettaine knelt stiffly next to her.

As predicted, the Faun's eyes caught her discomfort and snapped to the injury. She set her bag down carefully, her fingers steady for the first time since she had ascended the stairs, and reached for the bandages on Aria's ankle. She paused briefly before touching them, eyes going to her patient's and asking, "May I?". At Aria's gentle nod, she began carefully peeling the gauze away from the skin, showing an impressive deftness with the fabric that had not been evidenced before.

Rolling the gauze into a ball without looking at it, she studied Aria's injured ankle carefully, first with her large eyes, and then gently probing it with cool fingers. She first checked the obvious signs of Maugrim's tooth marks, which Aria pointedly refused to look at, lest any of the new scabs had reopened. Then she checked the coloring of deep purple and bluish bruising, paying special attention to the innermost deepest areas. Finally, and with gentle hands, she began slowly rotating Aria's foot in different direction to ascertain the state of the bones and ligaments within.

Though she was as gentle as she could possibly be, the strain of the day had taken its toll, and Aria could not help a gasp of pain as a well-placed test shot a bolt of lightning pain up her shin bone. Pristine bristled next to her, laying a comforting hand atop her hair as she began scolding the apprentice healer. "Is that really necessary?" She demanded, her tone as sharp as a blade. "I believe that there has been enough strain on her ankle for one day, don't you?"

Her dusky eyes shattered Brettaine's calmed demeanor into a thousand fragmented pieces once more. Sitting back on her heels, she snatched her fingers away from Aria's injury. "I-I'm s-so sorry!" She stammered, her wide eyes going back to the carpet in nervous terror. "I-I wasn't th-thinking. P-please f-forgive me."

Aria began coughing. She tried to fight it at first, but each one caused her upper torso to shake and her head to bob slightly. At Pristine's inquiry as to whether she was all right, she tried to answer that she was just fine, but instead released the coughs instead, unable to get a word through the tickle in her lungs. The Faun next to her got up enough gumption to call for water, which the Nymph immediately disappeared to fetch.

As soon as the door below closed behind Pristine, however, Aria stopped coughing.

Brettaine, who had been getting to her feet to try and help ease Aria's coughing fit before the liquid arrived, paused awkwardly, her wide eyes staring at her patient in disbelief. "You - you're all right?" She asked, her tone bewildered.

Aria grinned at her. "I'm sorry for the deception." She started. "But I thought it might be best if you didn't have anyone hovering over you while you work. It can get awfully distracting, can't it?"

The Faun sat back on her heels once more, watching Aria for a long moment before offering a small smile in return and tucking a lock of her tumbled hair behind her ear. It was the first hint at a happy expression she's seen from the healer all night, and Aria felt a burst of triumph deep in her chest. "Now," She continued. "My ankle - tell me the truth, have I made it worse with my stubbornness today?"

Brettaine's hands moved back to the injured limb and gently probed it in the same area she had stretched moments ago. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but her fingers didn't elicit the same shooting pain that the stretch had. The Faun shook her head in response to Aria's question. "I don't believe it's become worse." She explained. "I believe that the muscles around the injury have become tired from the day's exertions, My Lady, and cannot provide as much support as they could earlier. After that, the ligaments here," She stroked two fingers down the muscle on Aria's outer foot that connected to her shin bone. "began to become overworked and stressed themselves. That's why the pain is sharpest when you stretch them."

Her hands left her patient's ankle once more as she looked back up at Aria. "I'm sorry to tell you that you did overtax yourself today, My Lady," She apologized. "But it's is nothing that some good rest and a soothing poultice will not fix." She then turned her attention to her bag once more and began drawing out four of the little glass bottles and a length of gauze. Now that she was more focused on her work, her hands were as steady as stone. Carefully, she dosed the gauze with some of the liquid from three the bottles before setting it in her lap for a moment. As she let her short apron soak up most of the excess liquid, she dosed a smaller portion of gauze with liquid from the fourth bottle.

This gauze, she immediately placed along the tooth mark wounds before wrapping a layer of clean gauze around the medicinal fabric. Before she wrapped the rest of Aria's ankle, she wrapped the larger poultice gauze around all the affected areas of her patient's ankle, including about halfway up her calf and all the way to just below her toes. When finished, she wrapped everything in long strips of clean gauze, and tied everything off very neatly. Then, happy with her work, she wiped her hands on her apron and asked Aria how it felt without stammering once.

Grinning at the capable healer, Aria gave herself a moment to allow the poultice's affects to soak in before answering. The first difference she could feel was that the poultice was cool against her skin, which was a blessing to the swollen parts of her ankle and promised relief. There was a slight tingling sensation from whatever had been placed on the healing bite wounds, but it was not unpleasant. As a whole, however, she felt it blessedly begin to relieve the throbbing throughout her lower leg, and told the healer so.

For a moment, Brettaine's smiled beamed with pride before she seemed to remember to be nervous and dropped her gaze to her bag once more. As she stuffed the used ball of gauze into the front flap of her bag, she explained her diagnosis of Aria's first injury. "T-the open wounds are healing nicely." She began. "The t-tincture I placed upon them sh-should allow the scabs to f-finish forming by m-morning. I w-would recommend n-not removing the gauze there until mid-afternoon tomorrow, M-my Lady."

Aria's nod of understanding went unnoticed, but the Faun continued anyway. "The b-bruises are still very angry, and I'm concerned that at their deepest, there is still too much red. Th-that means they are still only j-just beginning to heal. I-I added some arnica to the p-poultice, which should help, b-but the bruises will l-likely take a long t-time to completely heal." She looked up at her patient with nervous sympathy, only to find her still smiling gently and giving another encouraging nod.

The healer took a steadying breath, and finished with, "The poultice also contains essence of the cypress and peppermint oil to help calm any inflammation and encourage better blood circulation. I recommend that it be changed in the morning before breakfast." She paused, dropping her eyes again and swallowing noticeably. "Although, M-master F-Fircil will likely have his own r-recommendations in the m-morning, M-my Lady."

Aria was not about to allow this wavering to continue, not after the apprentice had made such a strong finish. "I'm sure that Master Fircil is likely to have his hands busy getting ready to leave in the morning." She suggested, and then smiled a bit conspiratorially. "Not to mention seeing to a certain Pevensie sibling who is as equally stubborn as I am. If you don't mind, I'm sure it would ease his burden if you were to come check on your treatments in the morning?" She suggested. "I myself would be delighted to be under your care again."

Brettaine's eyes flew to Aria's, absolutely shocked, "You - you would?" She gasped. "But I - I'm-"

"An extremely competent healer." Aria finished for her with a smile. "I very grateful that you're taking such good care of me."

The Faun blushed to the tips of her ears at Aria's praise, but the girl caught the slightest evidence of a straightening spine as Brettaine inhaled deeply. "Thank you for your confidence, My Lady." She answered, and lowered her bag to the floor once more. "I should examine your arm now, if I may?"

Aria gave an answering 'of course', and carefully drew her arm out of Pristine's provided sling, offering it for inspection as she tugged at the sleeve of her nightgown. Hands moving to help her, Brettaine paused briefly at the sight of the Nymph's delicate embroidery. "Pristine is very talented, isn't she?" She commented haltingly, her eyes flicking towards the staircase behind the couch to check that they were still alone.

"Yes, she is." Aria confirmed, her fingers tracing an embroidered rose vine fondly before pulling her sleeve away from the bandages beneath. Attempting to stave off any further fits of nervousness, she leaned closer to the healer. "She seems very protective, too, doesn't she?" She asked, giving Brettaine a gently smile of sympathy.

Brettaine nodded, her eyes still of the stairs. "She is." She confirmed, and her eyes moved back to fully catch Aria's for the first time. "But that's not a bad thing, My Lady. You're very - special - to us." The blush rushed back to her cheeks and Aria could tell that she was fighting her nervous tendencies. "What you've done for the people of Narnia - with no true accolades or thought of reward-" She stopped, and took another steadying breath. "You are a remarkable person, My Lady, and worth protecting."

And it was Aria's turn to be stunned by another's kind words that evening. Brettaine's eyes shone with the sincerity of her belief, and Aria could not bring herself to wave away the praise with anything as nonchalant as a comment that she'd only done what anyone else would have. Without it, she didn't know quite what to say to the Faun.

After a long moment, she saw Brettaine's eyes flicker with uncertainty once more, and simply breathed a small, but steadying, "Thank you."


End file.
